


Let Love In

by Terri Botta (Isilwath)



Series: Let Love In [1]
Category: Southern Vampire Mysteries - Charlaine Harris
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:55:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 199,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isilwath/pseuds/Terri%20Botta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric decides that it’s time for him and Sookie to come to an understanding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my epic E/S Novella written in 2009, before Dead and Gone was released. Spoilers up to and including From Dead to Worse, but it goes AU after that.

Let Love In

By Terri Botta

Disclaimer: I don’t own the Southern Vampires. Sole copyright belongs to Charlaine Harris. I’m poor so don’t sue.

Rating: M for later chapters.

Timeframe: Post-From Dead to Worse

Pairing: Eric/Sookie

Summary: Eric decides that it’s time for him and Sookie to come to an understanding.

Let Love In

 

Chapter One

Sookie wasn’t surprised to see Eric leaning against her car when she walked out into the employee parking lot of Merlotte’s Bar. About half an hour ago her dismal mood had eased up, despite the fact that the crowd at the bar had just begun to thin after the post-game NFL show on ESPN, so she knew he was near. Sam had installed a new large, high-def, flat screen TV, and now Merlotte’s was the place to go for football in Bon Temps. Yippee.

She loved the extra tips, but hated the rowdy crowds of drunken football fans. It was much harder to keep her shields up and stay out of people’s thoughts when she was being constantly bombarded with sex, beer, and football crazed male minds. By the end of the night, she was always exhausted, both mentally and physically. Tonight the game had gone into overtime and had run way late.

 _‘I’m getting too old for this,’_  she thought wearily.

She wasn’t unhappy to see Eric, but she certainly wasn’t looking forward to what his being there waiting for her represented. She took a deep breath, shored up what little energy she had left, and marched over to him, hoping to get whatever it was over and done with so she could go home and go to bed. Eric smiled at her – a soft smile, not his usual leer, which should have rang all of her warning bells – and pushed off her car to meet her halfway. She was opening her mouth to say something when he folded her into his arms without a word and held her close.

 _‘Oh…’_  she thought, shocked by the unexpected embrace.  _‘This is… different.’_

“Eric?”

His arms tightened, and she heard him sniffing her hair. A satisfied rumble echoed across their blood-bond, and she relaxed, allowing herself to feel comfort in his arms. It was so easy to sink into her feelings. She was so tired and worn out, and she’d taken a lot of hits emotionally wise recently, if not physically. His hug wasn’t warm because he was always cool, but it did make her feel cherished and safe.

God, she hated that. Damn blood-bond. Damn fairy blood. Damn herself for getting involved with vampires and shifters and Weres, and making her life a crazy ride of danger and fear.

She shook off the warm-fuzzies and stepped back. He let her go, but she could tell it was with some reluctance. He’d been enjoying the closeness as much as she was, but then it had been two weeks since they’d seen each other.

“What was that all about?” she asked, craning her neck up to look Eric in the eyes.

“Pam tells me I am not being...” He paused, looking for a word. “sensitive enough to your needs.”

She chuckled and gave him a smile. “Has she been reading Dear Abby again?”

Somehow the thought of a centuries-old vampire getting advice from the agony column just cracked her up.

“Some, but now she’s gone on to watching some balding, television psychologist who calls himself Dr. Phil. She’s been taping his shows.”

Sookie burst out laughing and shook her head. “Tell me you’re joking.”

He smiled back, the soft one that made her insides twist because they reminded her too much of the Eric she had known when he couldn’t remember who he was.

“I’m not. She swears by him. She said I wasn’t giving enough of myself emotionally to you, so when I felt your weariness I thought a hug might help. How’d I do?”

He gave her a pleased look and stood up a little straighter, which only made her have to crane her already sore neck even more. Eric listening to advice from Dr. Phil seemed absurd until she realized that vampires often didn’t understand proper human interactions, and the “mainstreaming” ones needed a little help fitting in. Still, she had to give him points for trying.

“You did fine. I feel loads better,” she lied, sort-of. She  ** _did_**  feel better, somewhat. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

She half expected him to pounce on the word, and that had been her goal. His expression, and the feelings coming across the bond, was way too serious for her comfort, and she’d hoped to distract him with his libido. What she would do if her ploy worked too well… She hadn’t thought that far ahead. Her body, however, was already voicing its opinion, but then it had always been extremely fond of Eric. She stomped on it as quickly as she could and waited for Eric to leer at her.

He didn’t. Instead, he surprised her by stepping back. Oh, she saw the glint in his eye, and watched him lick his bottom lip, but that was all the reaction she got from him. Her body reacted to seeing the pink tongue flicking out, and she had to do some very furious stomping before she jumped on him. He had to be feeling it over the bond, but he gave no indication that he did. He was confusing her utterly.

“Felipe de Castro has returned to Nevada. His agent, Sandy, has gone with him,” the vampire said, leaning against her car again. “Victor has been installed in New Orleans to look after the king’s interests there.”

She nodded, reading the unspoken undercurrents in his words. “I’m sure you’re happy about that, about not being overseen anymore.”

He gave a little shrug. “Or not overseen quite so closely. Yes, I am… much more at ease.”

She understood. Eric had been playing a careful maneuvering game with the new King of Louisiana and his entourage. Having played the mine-ridden fields herself, she knew how taxing all the little details and nuances could be.

“That’s good.”

He grunted softly, an offhand noise that said it was neither good nor bad, and she once again admired him for his pragmatism. “And what of your issues with the Jackson Weres? I have heard nothing about Herveaux other than he is settling in as packleader,” he asked.

“I haven’t heard anything from Alcide that says otherwise,” she answered, wondering what he was getting at.

“And your brother? Any new developments in the situation with him?”

She clenched her fists and set her shoulders, the pain lancing through her suddenly. She knew Eric felt the stab because his eyes widened a little and his calm demeanor faltered for a moment.

“I’m still not speaking to Jason.”

He nodded as if she had confirmed something he had already known. “I am… sorry to hear that.”

“Are you really?” she countered, an edge of irritation to her voice.

“Yes, actually, I am. He is important to you, therefore he is important to me.”

“More Dr. Phil?” she pressed.

“Somewhat, but more my… memory of how much you were worried about him when he was missing.”

His admission took her back and she looked away. They were entering into some very sensitive territory, and her discomfort was growing. “You still haven’t told me why you’re here. If all you’d wanted to do was catch up, you could have just picked up a phone,” she snapped.

He gave her a measuring look that told her that she wasn’t fooling anyone. “I wanted to see you. I wanted to speak with you face to face.”

His sudden moments of bold-faced honesty never ceased to amaze her, and she stared at him in stunned silence.

“The point to all of this… catching up as you call it, is to confirm that now is a relatively quiet time. The new king has gone home, and I am no longer under intense scrutiny. The Weres and the shifters seem to be at peace, or at least there are no wars brewing, and things are as settled as they get.” He caught and held her with his eyes, taking a step towards her again. “Now is the time for us to have our… conversation before any new calamities or disasters strike.” He loomed over her, and her heart started pounding. “We must come to our understanding, my lover.”

She gulped, trying to quell the shivers of both fear and desire. “Eric…”

“Sookie,” he replied, the word slipping from his mouth like a caress.

She focused on how his tongue pressed against his bottom lip, how her name sounded when he said it in  ** _that_**  tone of voice. She leaned forward and felt his lust buffeting against her own as he moved even closer. It had been so long since someone had touched her, especially someone as skilled and attentive as Eric had been.

The memory of how they had been when he was cursed, of what they had shared during those few days – so much more than sex. The closeness, the affection… The loss of those things cooled her ardor, and she stepped back, placing a hand on his chest, his perfectly sculpted, muscular chest.

“Eric… I’m too tired to do this with you tonight,” she managed to say.

“I know.” He didn’t seem upset or surprised. He looked away, his eyes focusing on the back door of the bar, his mouth drawing down into a frown. “You’re always tired after you work nights. This job is no good for you.”

She snorted and glared at him. “I have to work,” she insisted. “I have bills to pay.”

“Of course. I would never suggest otherwise,” he answered reasonably.

“So what  ** _are_**  you suggesting?” she questioned, eyeing him with suspicion.

“That now would be a very good time for you to come away with me.”

It was the second time that night that he’d shocked her speechless. “You’re serious,” she finally stammered after several tense moments.

He nodded. “While things are quiet, we should go.”

“You want me to go away with you? For how long?” She was incredulous, almost appalled by his suggestion.

“Just a few days.” He held up a hand to stop her before she got started. “Before you start arguing, I know loss of wages is an issue. I intend to supplement your income to make up for the hours you would have to take off.”

“You’d  ** _pay_**  me to go away with you?” she blurted, her pride wounded.

“If it will allow you to say yes, then yes, I would.” He moved close to her again, closing the distance she’d put between them and stepping into her personal space. “Sookie, our bond is strong. We  ** _must_**  come to an understanding. I have waited for the time to be right. I have been more than patient, but we must settle this between us and soon.”

“There’s nothing to settle. I don’t belong to you,” she argued. “And our bond will fade over time so there’s no need for this drama.”

He pinned her with his eyes, and she felt the tumult of emotions careening across the bond. It hadn’t faded. It was still as strong as it had been on the day she had taken his blood for the third time in Rhodes. He was angry and frustrated, but underneath all of that was pain. She was rejecting him and it hurt him. She felt his pain keenly as if it were her own.

 _‘We’re bound a little too tightly to suit me, Sookie,’_  he’d said on the day she’d found the soda can bomb in the Pyramid of Gizeh hotel, but then later had somewhat retracted the statement when he’d told her that he liked being bound to her.  _‘I like being like this. You’ll like it too.’_

And she  ** _had_**  liked it, as much as she feared it. The bond was what had allowed Eric to find her when Debbie Pelt’s parents had had her and Quinn abducted. It was what had allowed her to know when Eric and the King of Nevada were captured by Seigbert and about to be killed. It was what brought her calm and joy and allowed Eric to share his strength with her. She’d found comfort in it, and knew he’d found comfort as well.

“It’s not going to fade is it? Because I’ve had your blood three times,” she stated, almost surprised by her own revelation.

“Technically you’ve had it four times. You bit me on the night the maenad attacked. I had my hand over your mouth so you wouldn’t scream,” he answered.

“But it’s not going to fade,” she pushed, already knowing the answer. If it was going to fade, it would have started to by now.

“No. You’ve had too much of my blood now.”

She winced. Even though he had only confirmed what she already knew, it still sounded so clinical coming from him. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“It wasn’t something I had planned. Andre forced my hand. If he hadn’t insisted on binding you to him, I would not have given you my blood that last time.”

His voice was calm and even, and she knew he wasn’t lying.

“You did it to spare me from Andre.”

“You know I did.”

“Did you know this would happen?”

“Yes.”

His simple answer set her back again. He’d known what giving her his blood in Rhodes would do, but he’d done it anyway so she wouldn’t have to drink from Andre. Considering the circumstances, she could not hold what he’d done against him. She knew, both mentally and emotionally, that he’d been acting in her best interests. And he was right. She much preferred being bound to Eric. She didn’t know what she would have done if Andre had not accepted Eric’s compromise.

“What would you have done if you hadn’t been able to stop him?”

He looked away and she could tell that he was struggling with his answer. The feelings coming across the bond were ones she associated with indecision and reluctance, and she wondered what was going on in his head.

“I would have had no choice but to let him bind you. But then I would have done everything in my power to break the tie. You have no idea how relieved I was when he did not survive the bombing in Rhodes. We were both very lucky,” he finally replied in a soft voice, as if he was afraid to admit his treason out loud lest someone be watching them.

“You would have tried to kill him?”

“Yes.” He looked at her again, his eyes intense, silently demanding that she not look away because what he was about to tell her was very serious and very important. “Once he’d had you, he would never have let you go. You were too valuable to him and the queen. He would have forced his blood upon you until the bond was permanent, and then he would have made you do his bidding. He would not have been a kind master.”

The thought of Andre being her master made her shudder and thank Quinn once again for killing Andre in Rhodes when the vampire was too injured to fight back. It had been a cowardly kill, but she was grateful for Quinn’s action every day of her life. To now hear that  ** _Eric_**  would have killed Andre for forcing her to drink his blood was unsettling to say the least. To kill Andre Eric would have had to risk his own life, and she knew for a fact that Eric valued that life above all others. Or did he? She couldn’t think about that now so she went for sarcasm.

“As if he could have forced me to do anything. You can’t even make me  _heel nicely_ ,” she sneered, throwing his words to Andre back at him.

Eric tossed his head impatiently. “It is true that my glamour does not seem to work on you, but you have never heeled because I have never asked it of you. Rest assured, my lover, if I had called you, you would have come.”

“Oh really?” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her breasts.

“I learned early on that you valued your freedom very much. I have always given you a choice. Sometimes you have defied me, but it has been because I  ** _let_**  you defy me. I did not want to abuse our bond in a way that I knew you would hate and come to despise me for it,” Eric explained. “I have called you but one time, and you answered quickly.”

That shocked her, then she got angry. “When?” she demanded.

“The night Siegbert captured me and the new king right here in this parking lot.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

He’d called because he was about to die, and she had been the only one close enough to save him. All of her anger rushed out of her and she felt herself flagging. She was so tired. Too tired to deal with pushy vampires, blood-bond or no blood-bond.

“And you have called  ** _me_** , Dear One. When the parents of that bitch Debbie Pelt had you kidnapped. I heard you calling quite clearly: find me, find me, find me. And I did, didn’t I? I found you.” He brought his face close to hers and she held her breath. “I will  _always_  find you.”

She swallowed hard and dropped her eyes, unable to stand the blue stare he was giving her, and the feelings that look was stirring inside of her. He’d said he’d remembered everything. Did he mean everything? And if he did, how did he feel about all of it? Dreading that he didn’t feel the same now was one of the biggest reasons she’d been avoiding the conversation he seemed so hell-bent on having.

He was right though. Their bond was strong, and they did need to reach an understanding because they were going to be bound for as long as they both were alive.

She gasped, understanding now why so many people wanted to kill Eric. Quinn had expressed a desire to kill Eric outright. Niall had offered to do it for her if it was what she wanted. Sam, she knew, would not be sorry to see Eric dead for good either. None of them seemed to realize that the very thought of Eric dying was like stabbing herself with the stake they used to kill him.

No matter what she felt or how confused she was or how annoying the Viking could be, she did not want him dead. And she did like him. She’d liked him a lot. Then she’d missed him when he’d regained his memory, and missed him even more when she feared those lost memories had destroyed what relationship she and the real-Eric had shared. He seemed to be getting over that, especially since the bombing in Rhodes, and definitely since he’d remembered the time he’d been cursed. Maybe now really was the time to clear the air between them.

She sighed and let the fight drain out of her. “Alright. What did you have in mind?”

Now it was Eric’s turn to look a little stunned. Obviously, he’d been expecting more resistance from her. She let herself feel smug for a few moments while he recovered.

“Sunday through Wednesday. I’ll have you back by dawn on Thursday morning,” he finally said.

“This Sunday?” she repeated, blinking. So soon? That was only six days away.

“Yes.”

“Where will we go?”

“I can’t tell you that yet. Somewhere safe where we will be away from… distractions. You will have to trust me.”

He seemed confident, and she knew he’d never take her anywhere where he thought she would be in danger.

“All right. I’ll talk to Sam and tell him I need some time off.”

“I’ve already spoken with your shifter boss. He’s agreed to allow you to go with me if it was what you wanted,” he informed with a little smugness of his own.

Typical Eric. She sighed again. “I guess I could be angry about that, but I’m too tired to argue the point.”

She found herself in his arms again, wrapped in his comfort and solid strength.

“I know, Dear One. You are as weary as I am. You need this break as much as I do. Thank you for agreeing to accompany me,” she heard him whisper. There was a loving inflection to Dear One that made her insides flutter.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she muttered into his pects.

She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent and letting the contentment from the bond seep into her weary bones. It felt so good to be held by someone who appreciated and valued her. Her body began tapping her on the shoulder, telling her that she really wasn’t all that tired, and wouldn’t it be nice if she and Eric continued their conversation at home, preferably in the bedroom. She had to admit that the idea sounded good, and she was about to let her body have its way – hey after all she’d just agreed to go with him to an undisclosed location for 4 days, and she just knew what was going to happen then so why bother resisting her urges now? – when she felt Eric lift her chin and claim a gentle, but oddly chaste, kiss.

The lack of passion in the kiss surprised her because she could sense his own rising lust in the bond, and she could certainly feel his interest through his jeans, but rather than move closer, he actually took a little step away and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“I’ll come for you shortly after sunset on Sunday, my lover. Pack warm. We’re heading north.”

“O-okay,” she stuttered, pulling herself out of her own lust and quelling the feeling of disappointment she was experiencing.

He gave her a tender smile, and another kiss – this one on the forehead – and then he was gone. She looked at the empty place where he had just been, blinking and wondering why they weren’t headed for her house right now, despite the fact that Amelia and Olivia were still living there. After a moment, she sighed and turned to go back into the bar to tell Sam she was leaving on Sunday.

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

  
 

_Chapter Two_

 

 

 A dozen times she’d picked up the phone to call Eric and call the whole thing off, and a dozen times she’d put the phone back down. Even when he’d called on Thursday night to chat and finalize the plans for Sunday, she’d been about to tell him that she was backing out when the words strangled in her throat and came out as a question regarding whether or not the place they were going had a pool. Just so she would know if she needed to bring a bathing suit, of course. He’d roared with laughter and told her that any pool they’d be getting into would be suit optional.  ** _That_**  had ended the conversation right there.

 But for all of her anxiety and apprehension about the upcoming trip – hell she was going away for 4 days with  ** _Eric_**. Anyone in her right mind would be nervous! – she found herself looking forward to it. Maybe it was just the bond filling her with Eric’s happiness, even from as far away as Shreveport. They’d never really measured the distance the bond stretched, and she knew they could feel each other when they were talking on the phone, if only faintly. Lately, however, it felt like it was growing stronger or maybe it was just that she was more aware of it now.

 Eric was euphoric, and she had to admit there were portions of the trip she was definitely going to enjoy. She had no illusions that sex was not going to play a big part in the “big trip,” and her sex drive was going into overdrive imagining multiple scenarios involving her, Eric, and a number of soft, flat surfaces (and maybe a few hard, vertical ones, too.) She wondered if Eric liked lingerie.

 The sex she was looking forward to. It was everything else that was tying her into knots, and Sunday afternoon found her pacing like a caged animal as she waited for sunset. She’d been working like a mad-woman, taking as many shifts at Merlotte’s as Sam would let her, and she was fairly certain that she’d made enough money to cover her time off, not that Eric hadn’t promised to make up the difference if she came up a few dollars short.

 He’d repeated the promise again when they’d talked on the phone in Sam’s office, after he’d been unable to raise her at home and had ended up calling the bar. He was worried that she was working too hard. He didn’t want her all worn out before their trip. Wearing her out was his job he’d said, and she could just imagine the leer on his face when he’d said it. If she could have jumped him through the phone, she would have. She knew she was in deep trouble if simply talking to him was like having phone sex right there in Merlotte’s.

 But for all her anticipation of the more pleasurable aspects of the trip, it was the other aspects that were making her break into a cold sweat. Octavia and Amelia had gotten so tired of her pacing that they’d gone out, so now she was alone in her grandmother’s house, wearing a hole in the floor as she watched the clock ticking down to sunset. It was November. Eric would be rising early. He’d said he’d be there within a half hour of sundown. That was only 40 minutes away. Jesus, Shepherd of Judea, what was she going to do?

 She was working herself up into a nervous fret when she suddenly felt perfectly calm and happy. She started. She hadn’t even heard a whisper of the crunch of tires on the driveway, but there was no doubt in her mind that Eric was coming, and he’d be there soon, probably very soon. She shook her head to get it on straight and did a final check to make sure she had remembered everything.

 Sitting by the back door was her suitcase. It was new. On Thursday night she had mentioned to Eric that her old rolling suitcase hadn’t survived the bombing in Rhodes (it was buried somewhere in the rubble of what was left of the Pyramid of Gizeh hotel,) and that she needed to either borrow one or go to Wal-mart for a replacement. Less than twenty-four hours later a FedEx truck had lumbered up to her door to deliver a brand new set of luggage complete with a large rolling suitcase, a smaller rolling carry-on, a garment bag and a make-up bag, all in cranberry to match her coat. The same coat that was now resting overtop of the carry-on, waiting to go with her. He’d told her to pack warm, after all, and it was getting on winter.

 Five minutes after she’d first felt him, she heard the sound of his Corvette purring down the drive, and she scrambled to make sure her hair and clothes were in order. Just for something to do. She had declared herself ready as she heard the car come to a stop and the car door open. She didn’t hear him coming up to the house of course, but he went immediately to the back door and knocked. She felt a pang as she realized that he’d remembered that she always came in the back.

 “My lover?” she heard him call, and she hurried to answer the door, pulling it open like someone yanks a bandage off a wound just to get it over with.

 He was there in the doorway, dressed in jeans and the heaviest sweater she’d ever seen him wear. It was woven in blue and purple with a scoop neck and long sleeves. It looked like wool, and it looked fabulous on him. He always did look amazing in the jewel colors. On his feet were what looked like hiking boots. Dress warm indeed. She felt naked in her long-sleeved knit sweater and blue jeans.

 “Sookie,” he said, his voice even.

 “Eric,” she answered, her voice not so even.

 “Are you ready?”

 She glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even six yet and he was already at her door. He must have spent the day close-by. Had he stayed at Bill’s? Would he be that cruel to his underling as to force Bill to shelter him so he could take Bill’s former lover off on a romantic trip?

 Knowing what she knew of Eric, he might have done just that. She didn’t think Eric had quite forgiven Bill for his part in both the queen’s computer program debacle and her plan to recruit Sookie’s telepathic abilities through any means necessary; any means being to seduce her and bring her under control. Pam had told her that no one at Fangtasia had known about Bill’s mission, and that Eric had been particularly pissed off about it.

 At the time Pam had led her to believe that Eric’s anger had been because the queen had usurped his authority, but Eric’s actions had told a different story. He might have been mad at Sophie-Anne for her deviousness, but he was even angrier with Bill for deceiving her. He had forced Bill to tell her the truth, thus crushing any hope Bill might have had of getting back with her. She might not hate him anymore, but the most her first boyfriend could expect from her was friendship and grudging respect.

 “How’d you get here so fast? Did you stay at Bill’s?” she blurted.

 The scowl on his face told her more than any words he could have spoken. “No. I have a… safe place between here and Shreveport where I spent the day. It is considerably closer.”

 “Ah,” she answered, flushing a little in embarrassment, but filing the information away. So Eric had a bolthole near Bon Temps, and, judging by how fast he’d gotten there, it was very close to her house.

 He looked at the little pile of luggage. “Is this everything?”

 She nodded. “Yeah.”

 “You got my gift,” he commented, picking up the carry-on suitcase and the garment bag. She hadn’t needed the larger rolling suitcase. It was only 4 days, and she was no clothes-horse. There were a couple of nice outfits in the garment bag, including the red dress and the black shawl Pam had once wanted to borrow, plus a new blue dress much like the one that had been lost in Rhodes. She knew how much Eric had liked her in that dress.

 “Yes, they’re very nice. Thank you. I meant to send a card, but I didn’t get the luggage until I got home from work on Friday night, and I knew you wouldn’t get the card by Saturday,” she explained. “And I figured I could just… thank you personally.”

 He gave her a heated look that made her insides melt and motioned her out the door with his chin because his hands were full. “I’m sure you can come up with many ways to thank me, my lover, but that will be later. Right now we need to go. The plane is waiting for us at the airfield.”

 He all but chased her out the door, and she hurried to put on her coat, lock up the house and meet him at the car. He’d already stowed her bags with his in the Corvette’s tiny trunk, and was holding the door open so she could get in. She would have thought him the perfect gentleman if not for the impatient look on his face.

 “Plane? We’re flying?” she questioned as she buckled herself in. The car was already moving before she had the thing fully clasped.

 “Yes, my lover. We are to meet it at a private airfield near Shreveport,” he replied, guiding the car onto Hummingbird Road.

 “Private airfield?” she stammered, blinking at him as he drove with both hands clamped firmly on the wheel and his foot heavy on the pedal, well, heavier than usual. “Are we in a hurry? Can you tell me where we’re going yet? How long is the flight?”

 “The pilot will take off once we have boarded. The flight will be a little under three hours if memory serves. And no, I can’t tell you where we’re going yet.”

 “Is it some secret hideaway spot you’re not allowed to talk about?”

 She was half-joking so she was surprised when he answered, “Something like that. I’ll explain everything very soon, Dear One.”

 “Oh.”

 He was tense and driving like a madman. She was half afraid to look at the speedometer to see how fast they were going, and, if she didn’t know any better, she would say that Eric was afraid they were being followed.

 “Eric, is everything all right?” she asked carefully.

 “Of course, my lover. Everything is fine,” he answered, but she knew he wasn’t being completely truthful. “I’m glad you liked your gift. It matched your coat perfectly.”

 “You have good taste,” she said teasingly.

 “Of course I do. Look who’s sitting next to me.”

 He gave her a smug smile that made her relax. No matter what was bothering him, they were together, and she felt safe in his presence.

 “You must tell me, how has your week been? I know we spoke on Thursday, and you told me you were working many extra shifts. You didn’t wear yourself out too much, did you?” he said suddenly, speaking in a pleasant, conversational voice.

 Eric was making small talk. Okay, now she was getting worried again. He cast her a glance, and she felt reassurance come across the bond until she settled down. She looked at him, took a deep breath and nodded, reading his silent command for calm.

 “No, I’m fine. I worked the lunch shift this afternoon, but I left at 4:30.”

 “Did you work last night?”

 “Yes,” she admitted.

 “So you haven’t gotten much sleep.”

 As if she could have slept knowing he would be coming to whisk her away to an undisclosed location in less than 24 hours. “Enough. I’m not tired at all.”

 His smile widened a little. “I’m glad to hear that.”

 Ten minutes later Eric made a left turn onto a side road that she hadn’t even seen was there, and took the Corvette down a wide gravel lane that ended at a small airstrip with two hangers and one grass runway. He parked the car near one of the hangars and got the luggage while she was getting out of the passenger seat.

 “Where’s the plane?” she asked, not seeing anything that looked like a plane.

 “It’s over here,” he replied, and led the way around the metal building to the large open sliding doors.

 She’d never been inside an airplane hangar before so she spent a moment just looking around. When she turned, she saw Eric handing their bags to a man in a dark uniform. He was standing next to a small jet with bent wingtips, and she walked over to join him. The jet was sleek and looked new, but it had no identifying marks on it, no company logo or name, only the registry numbers painted on the tail.

 “Come, my lover. We will take off as soon as we’re boarded,” Eric told her, extending an arm and ushering her towards the folded down set of steps. He was carrying a black garment bag slung over one shoulder.

 She felt his urgency so she hurried up the steps and entered into the cabin of the jet. Inside was nothing like she was expecting. Technically it looked like there was seating for eight, but the seats were four very plush recliner type upright chairs and two bench loveseats facing each other with a table in-between them. She’d paused to take it all in, but Eric was right behind her, shooing her towards one of the seats as he hung the garment bag in a stowage compartment near the door. She chose one of the recliner-type seats and fished around for the safety belt. The whole chair swiveled. Just great.

 “There isn’t one,” Eric’s voice informed from the recliner next to her.

 “There isn’t?” she asked, watching the uniformed pilot fold up the steps and shut the cabin door. He gave them both a nod before disappearing into the cockpit.

 “No. In the unlikely event of an accident, I will kick out that door, grab you and fly us both to safety.”

 The smug look was back and he sat in the seat as if he owned it, the king of his own little world. The thought struck her that maybe he did.

 “Is this your plane?” she asked with a gasp.

 He grinned. “No. This is a private jet owned by the establishment where we are going.”

 “Can you tell me where we’re going now?’

 He flicked his eyes towards the cockpit, and she felt the rumble as the plane’s engines turned on. It sounded like a fleet of lawnmowers all buzzing away on a Sunday afternoon in July.

 “In another few minutes. After we’re airborne.”

 “Can this thing even get off the ground?” she asked nervously.

 “It’s a Learjet, so, yes, I think so,” he replied, an amused lilt to his voice.

 There was a quick jolt, then she felt the jet begin to taxi forward, leaving the hangar and turning onto the runway. She clenched her jaw and set both hands on the armrests of the chair. As a whole, she wasn’t overly fond of flying. She’d never set foot on a plane before she’d gotten involved with vampires, and her flying experience had been limited to the flights to and from Dallas and the flight to Rhodes. Neither trip had ended well. She hoped this one wouldn’t make it three for three.

 She held her breath as the jet paused at the end of the runway, knowing what was coming next. She hated this part, the takeoff, the feeling of something that should just  ** _not_**  be able to fly throwing itself into the air. Suddenly a cool hand wrapped around hers, peeling her fingers from the armrest of the seat.

 “Don’t be so afraid. I’m with you,” Eric whispered.

 She grabbed the offered hand and squeezed tightly, turning her head so she could look Eric in the eyes. He held her gaze.

 “Look at me,” he commanded. “Don’t look out the window. Look at me.”

 She flashed back to a horrible night in Jackson when she’d been staked at a club for Supes, and she’d been in agony. Eric had been there. Eric had followed her to Jackson and taken care of her when she’d gotten hurt. Eric had sat beside her and held her hand when Ray Don had yanked the wooden stake from her flesh. Eric had not let her look away from his face.  _‘Look at me. Look at me, Sookie. Don’t Sookie! Look at me!’_

 The jet engines roared. They sounded nothing like lawnmowers now, and the plane lurched forward, gathering speed as it hurtled towards the other end of the landing strip. She felt the G-Forces pressing her into the plush seat, but all she could see were Eric’s blue, blue eyes.

 They reached cruising altitude about fifteen minutes later, and she let go of Eric’s hand. At least this time she hadn’t cut him with her nails. “Thanks,” she managed licking her suddenly dry lips.

 He smiled. “Anytime, my lover.”

 Now that they were airborne, she noted that he’d visibly relaxed, the little signs of tension draining out of his face and shoulders. She watched as he got up and went to a set of cabinets, opening one that turned out to be a cleverly disguised refrigerator.

 “Water, soda or something stronger?” he asked.

 “Water will do fine, thank you.”

 He pulled out a bottle of spring water and uncapped it for her, bringing it over to her and deftly unfolding a table that had been lying flat against the cabin wall. She accepted the drink and took a swig.

 “Thank you.  ** _Now_**  can you tell me where we are going and what all the speeding and secrecy were about?”

 He resumed his seat in the recliner next to her only now it was across the folding table. “I’m sorry for that. I didn’t know if Felipe or Victor had bugged my car or had me followed. I half expect that they did because it’s something I would do.”

 She put down the bottle of water and looked at him. “Why would they bug your car and have you followed?”

 “Because they suspect I am being devious in some way, which is what they would do if they were headed out of town shortly after a major coup.”

 Eric being devious. What a shocker. “Didn’t you tell them where you were going?”

 “No. The only thing anyone knows is that I am going on vacation and I’m taking you with me. Not even Pam knows where I am going to be.”

 Now that was a surprise. What did he have to keep from Pam so much that he couldn’t even tell his second-in-command where he was going? “I don’t understand. Why all the secrecy?”

 He leaned forward and folded his hands in front of him on the table. She recognized the posture and matched it, holding the water bottle between her palms.

 “Before the Great Revelation, when our kind revealed our existence to yours, there were… places known to us, and other supernatural beings, where we could go to be safe. They were sanctuaries of a sort, neutral places that served the supernatural community, and provided safe haven for travelers. Some were resorts in desirable locations, some were retreats for those seeking solitude, some were hostels offering simple lodging and food for the night,” he explained. “All of them were secret and protected, and viciously guarded. There are strict rules inside them. You cannot kill in a sanctuary. There are no territorial disputes or rivalries within their borders. The neutrality of the sanctuary is sacrosanct…”

 Sacrosanct. She knew that one. It had been a word of the day. “They’re like Switzerland. I get it,” she interrupted, urging him to get to the point. “Secret places vamps and Supes could go and be safe. You’re taking me to one of them.”

 He nodded. “Yes. One of the oldest and most carefully guarded sanctuaries on this continent.”

 He got up again and walked over to the stowage compartment where he had hung the black garment bag. He lifted it out and brought it over, offering it to her. She accepted it reluctantly.

 “What’s this? I have a garment bag,” she asked, eyeing the item.

 “Presents from me. Things I knew you would need where we are going, but that I also knew would be hard to find in Louisiana, especially on such short notice,” he answered, lowering himself down into the seat again, stretching out his long legs and crossing them at the ankles.

 She blinked at him, but unzipped the garment bag, revealing four items. The first two were heavy sweaters like the one he was wearing, only in her size and cut for a woman’s body. They were in jewel colors like his, deep blues and purples with a bit of red and green smattered into the geometric patterns. She gasped when she saw them and carefully lifted them out of the bag. They were surprisingly soft to the touch.

 “Oh Eric… They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

 “I’m glad you like them.”

 “Yes, very much.”

 She set the sweaters aside and reached into the bag again, this time pulling out a genuine parka, heavier and warmer than any coat she’d ever owned or needed in Bon Temps.

 “I’m seeing a running theme here,” she commented, holding up the parka.

 He grinned. “There are warm, waterproof boots at the bottom of the bag.”

 Huh. She hadn’t seen those yet. All she saw was a plastic dress bag at the back of the garment bag, but she dug down into the bottom of the bag and found the box with the heavy hiking boots. The tops were high enough to cover her ankles and lined with wool.

 “Let me guess. When you said we were headed north, you meant it. You’re taking me up to the North Pole to meet Santa Claus.”

 He laughed, his mouth breaking into a pleased smile. “Not exactly, but you can expect it to be cold. The temperatures will be below freezing at night. There might even be…” He paused for dramatic effect. “ ** _snow_**.”

 Her jaw dropped. He had to be kidding. “Where are you taking me again?”

 Joy and contentment came flooding across the bond.

“It’s called Isle Elena. It’s an island on Lake Superior off the coast of Michigan. The owners have run the sanctuary for over two centuries. It’s not listed on any map, and it’s not claimed by any country.” His smile faded and he looked serious. “Isle Elena’s reputation is well known, but very few are ever invited to visit. The only ones who can go there are those who have been there before or who have been brought as a guest of someone who has.”

 “I’m guessing Felipe de Castro and Victor Madden aren’t on the guest list,” she commented dryly.

 “I honestly don’t know. I’ve only been to Isle Elena once and neither of them were there during my stay,” he answered.

 “But you didn’t want them to know where we were going.”

 “I didn’t want them to know where I was taking you. This trip is for us, and I did not want the new king crashing in on our time together or sending someone to spy on us.”

 “Would he do that?” she asked, then realized the idiocy of her question. Of course he would. Castro had orchestrated a hostile takeover of Louisiana that had resulted in the deaths of a number of vampires she’d known. A little surveillance on the only remaining sheriff from the old regime was nothing for him. “Nevermind. Forget I asked that.”

 He gave her a smile that was not quite a smirk. She smiled back and looked away shyly, the inside of the plane suddenly becoming too close. Across from her, she heard Eric shift to sit up a little straighter and cross his legs.

 “So that was why you were driving like Jimmie Johnson on the back roads of Bon Temps?”

 “Who?”

 She rolled her eyes. Some days she forgot who she was talking to. “Jimmie Johnson, the NASCAR driver,” she explained.

 “Ah. A racer.”

 “Yeah. With the way you were speeding, I thought you were trying to qualify for something.”

 “I was trying to get us to the plane before something else happened. Disaster and calamity seem to follow you, Sookie. I half expected a Were to come popping out of my trunk before we even left your house.”

 “Eric, I’ve seen the trunk of your Corvette. A Were could never fit in there,” she deadpanned, feeling a little stung. It wasn’t her fault that danger seemed to follow her now. Her life had been relatively boring before she’d met Bill, aside from most people thinking she was either disabled or crazy. “And I’ll have you know that I was never in any trouble before I started getting involved with your vampire shit. I never had to go to the hospital in all my life, and now I can’t seem to stay out of them.”

 Eric frowned. “I’d noticed. To be honest, your penchant for finding yourself in the middle of danger is disturbing, especially since you seem frustratingly unwilling to ask for help.”

 “What’s that supposed to mean?” she snapped back.

 Anger flared across the bond and she felt his irritation as well as her own. “It means that even after I expressly told you to call me if the Shreveport Weres tried to drag you further into their pack war, you blatantly ignored my wishes and went to meet with the two rival packmasters. You nearly got yourself killed in the process.”

 “I was just supposed to be going there to mediate a sit-down. It wasn’t supposed to be a blood bath. How was I to know some crazy Were-bitch was going to attack? What happened wasn’t my fault, and besides, Sam was with me,” she countered.

 Eric sneered, his fangs running out. “Yes, the damn shifter was by your side. You are my blood-bonded, Sookie. I should have been there to protect you, but instead you had him.”

 “I didn’t want him there. He insisted on coming! His being there wasn’t my idea!”

 “Thank goodness  ** _one_**  of you was thinking straight! You were an idiot to walk into that situation unguarded! What were you  ** _thinking?”_**

 If they hadn’t been on a plane cruising at god-knew-how-many-thousands of feet in the air, she would have stormed off and left him sitting there. Instead she had no choice but to stay there. She didn’t even know where the bathroom was.

 “I didn’t plan for it to end up like that. I was just trying not to get killed!” she yelled, the tears already starting to fall.

 “Do you have any idea what that did to me? Did you think I couldn’t feel your terror through the bond? I rushed out of Fangtasia to find you, but when I got to the office center, all I found were fucking Weres and bloody body parts. You were nowhere to be found. I tracked you all the way back to Bon Temps, trailing you and that damn shifter. I made sure you got into the house, then I went back to Fangtasia to wait for your explanation. And what did I get? A phone call from Pam telling me to  ** _go fly a kite!_** ”

 She almost laughed. She would have laughed, if she hadn’t felt the pain through the bond. She’d hurt him again and that knowledge shamed her. More tears fell and she couldn’t look at him. A moment later, she felt something touch her cheek, and she reared back to see him reaching over the table to wipe her tears away.

 “I hate it when you cry,” he admitted softly.

 She sniffed and took the napkin he’d been using to wipe her face, dabbing at her cheeks herself. “And I hate the fact that I can’t seem to stop.”

 “Let’s not talk about this anymore for now. We still have another two hours before we land, and I don’t want to spend it fighting.”

 She could agree to that. “Okay,” she answered, and then blew her nose into the napkin. Another one magically appeared in his hand and she accepted it when he offered. “Thanks.”

 “Are you hungry? There’s a dining room on the island. I planned for both of us to get supper there after we’d checked into our lodgings, but there is a small kitchen here with some offerings.”

 He didn’t wait for her answer, and she recognized the futility of asking him to stop once he’d gotten something into his head. At the rear of the plane was a divider that portioned off what was probably the kitchen he’d mentioned, and she watched him disappear behind the wall and listened to him rummaging around. A few moments later, he returned with a sandwich for her and a bottle of TrueBlood for himself. She choked up again when she realized that he’d made her favorite, right down to the kind of mustard she liked. He truly had remembered everything, even the stupidest little details.

 “Is something wrong with the sandwich?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

 “No, it’s perfect,” she said between sniffles.

 “You’re crying because it’s perfect,” he pressed, eyebrow raised.

 “Yes.”

 He closed his eyes and shook his head. “I’ll never understand human women.”

 


	3. Chapter Three

_Chapter Three_

 

 She got herself under control while she ate the sandwich, keeping her eyes down so she wouldn’t look at him. He seemed to be doing much the same, leaning his head back against the plush seat and staring up at the jet’s ceiling. Remembering what he had just said, she came to a revelation about the night of the Shreveport- St. Catherine Were War.

 “It was you,” she blurted suddenly.

 “Hm?” he replied, turning his face to her.

 “I knew you were coming. I knew you were on your way. You gave me your strength,” she continued.

 “When?” His eyes were bright and he was listening intently, but she was too busy having an epiphany to notice.

 “During the Were War. Priscilla had jumped on Sam, and I… I jumped on her. Something snapped in me. I… saw her kill Amanda, then jump on Sam, and I… just lost it. I leaped onto her back, and clamped onto her, and just kept squeezing her around the neck until she had to let go of Sam. She was shaking me, and trying to bite me, but I wouldn’t ease up. Sam finally got himself together enough to fight, so I let go, and he killed her just as Claudine got there.”

 “The  ** _fairy_**  was there too?” she heard him growl.

 Anger came barreling across the bond again, but she felt him struggling to rein it in.

 “Well… yeah. She popped in in the middle of it. I don’t know how she knew I was in danger, but she did, and she just appeared next to me right after I let go of Priscilla.”

 She saw him clench his fists and grit his teeth. His fangs were out again, and she scrambled for something to say that might help.

 “But it was you. You gave me the courage to jump on Priscilla. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew you were reaching out to me…”

 “ ** _I_**  gave you the courage to idiotically jump onto a Were in the middle of a pack war?” he scoffed, then clamped down on his next words, shaking his head.

 She saw a smear of blood on his lower lip so he must have been biting down to keep his temper under control, and she waited while he struggled with himself. He finally let out a huge burst of air through his nose, and she felt the tension flood out of the bond.

 “Perhaps it was best that I did not catch up with you. If you had smelled of blood and war and fairy, I might not have been able to stop myself from fucking you on your front porch and damn all who saw us.”

 Score one for the bluntly honest vampire. She stayed silent because there was nothing she could say to that. After a few more tense moments, Eric let out another breath and made a motion towards the forgotten garment bag lying on the floor next to her chair.

 “I don’t want to talk about that anymore. You have another gift in there. Hopefully it will help us focus… on more pleasant things,” he said.

 She nodded and wiped her hands on a napkin to get off any crumbs from the sandwich before she reached into the garment bag. The plastic dress bag was still in there, opaque white so she couldn’t see what was inside it. She unhooked the hanger from the holder and pulled out the bag, draping the item across her lap so she could lift the plastic and see what was inside. She gasped when she saw an exact copy of the blue dress she had worn to the ball in Rhodes.

 “Oh…” she breathed, lifting the ice blue, silver beaded garment up with reverence. “Eric…”

 Now she was even happier that she’d brought the other blue dress because it meant that she had the shoes and jewelry that would go with this one.

 “I know you lost the other one in Rhodes,” he said, his voice almost too soft for her to hear.

 “Yes.” She remembered the ball. She remembered dancing with Eric, how he had spun her around in his arms, and made her feel like she was flying. She felt a pang for everything that was lost when the Fellowship bombed the Pyramid of Gizeh Hotel, but thanked God that everyone who had been important to her had survived. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

 “You were stunning in that dress. I have dreams of you wearing it.”

 She felt the stirrings of lust building low in her belly, and she allowed herself to feel the heavy warmth. Eric’s interest echoed across the bond, and she licked her lips, giving him what she hoped was a sultry look. Judging by the expression on his face, she was succeeding.

 “And will I… have an occasion to wear this dress while we’re away?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

 “It will be far too cold for you to go out in it, but perhaps for a… private showing,” Eric replied, his eyes smoldering at her as his fangs came down a little.

 Read: ‘Put it on so I can take it off you, or fuck you in it, or both. I don’t care.’

 She didn’t care either. The warmth in her lower abdomen was spreading, and she found herself lifting out of her seat to lean across the table between them. She balanced her hip on the edge and lowered her face close to his until their lips were almost touching. She closed her eyes as she heard him inhale to breathe in her scent.

 “Eric…” she breathed.

 “Sookie…” he answered in the same soft voice.

 Their lips met and she felt him reach over to pull her across the table, his hands on her waist as their tongues dueled. Lust flared and wrapped around her, fed by Eric’s growing desire, and she lifted her hands to tangle them into his long hair. Eric moaned into her mouth, and the sound was so low and desperate that she almost thought he was in pain. It was an amazing turn on.

 Her mind went into hyper-drive as it began to rationalize what she was about to suggest. She and Eric were the only passengers, there was no cabin crew to see them, the pilot was behind a closed door… With the presence of the two loveseats, she was sure she wasn’t the only one who had thought of what she was about to do.

 “Would you like to join the Mile High Club?” she murmured when he let her breathe.

 He chuckled low and soft. “I hate to tell you, my lover, but I’m already a charter member.”

 Why was she not surprised to hear that? Well, at least he could show her the ropes.

 “Well then, maybe you can help initiate me,” she said, kissing him again.

 His hand slid up her side, pausing a moment to cup one breast. She groaned and used her leverage on his head to pull herself closer, pressing her body into his hands. She felt his fingers squeeze ever so slightly, then was shocked when he gently, but firmly pushed her away.

 “Eric?”

 She saw him move his mouth, but it took him a few moments before he was able to speak. She looked down, confused, because she could clearly see the large lump in his jeans.

 “As much as I would love to, my lover, I’m afraid we can’t.”

 His careful refusal brought her back to earth, and she was ashamed of her own brazenness. Getting a hold of herself, she took a deep breath and smoothed back her tousled hair.

 “Right. You’re right. We don’t know if the plane will hit turbulence or if the pilot has to pee and accidentally walks in on us…”

 Who would have thought that Eric would have been the rational one of the two of them?

 “It’s not that. In fact, it’s taking every bit of effort I have not to throw you onto those loveseats and fuck the daylights out of you,” he admitted, his eyes dilated with want.

 Well, okay. “What’s stopping you?”

 “You are.”

 “Uh… Eric. In case you hadn’t noticed, I wasn’t saying no.”

 He smiled. “I noticed. And I do appreciate your… enthusiasm, but I promised myself that I was going to handle you differently from now on, and I’m committed to keeping that promise.”

 “What do you mean, handle me differently?” she repeated, not liking the sound of that at all.

 “It would be far too easy to give into my urges and take you. Once I got started, I don’t know if I’d be able to stop. I’d fuck you here twice at least, once across this table and once on the loveseat. I’d fuck you on the couch after we checked into our lodgings, or on the floor if we didn’t make it that far. And of course, the moment I got you into the bed, you wouldn’t get out of it until dawn,” he explained, his hand reaching down to absently stroke himself through the denim of his jeans.

 “I could spend the next four nights doing the same thing,” he continued. “I’m sure both of us would enjoy it very much. But then none of the other reasons I have for bringing you here with me would get addressed, and settling things between us is much more important to me than a string of sexual escapades, no matter how much I might want them.”

 She stared at him, incredulous and not believing what she was hearing. “So basically you’re telling me no sex until we’ve worked this shit out between us.”

 “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

 She was now convinced that the vampire sitting before her was not Eric, but an undead Pod Person who looked like him, because the Eric she knew would never pass up sex with anyone, least of all pass up sex with her. “Who are you and what have you done with Eric?”

 He chuckled, but it was bitter, as was the smile he gave her. “I realize that this might come as a shock to you, Sookie, but I don’t always think with my dick. I can, on occasion, think quite clearly with the head on my shoulders.”

 She frowned, looking away, because she could think of numerous times when Eric had thought quite clearly with the right head, but then invariably ruined whatever progress he’d made with her by thinking with the wrong one. Come to think of it, however, those incidents had stopped quite a while ago. Eric had been much more serious around her lately, especially since Rhodes. The realization made her very uncomfortable, and that made her defensive. She’d learned that the best defense when dealing with a vampire (or any Supe for that matter) was a good offense.

 “Oh, so, what you’re telling me is that, unless we “come to an understanding” as you put it, we’re going to – what? Play cards for the next four days? Will you make me wait in the other room while you call for room service?” she snapped.

 “Excuse me? What did you say?”

 His voice was sharp, bordering on angry, and she paid attention. “I asked if we were going to play cards.”

 “Not that babbling idiocy, the other part; the part about room service.”

 There was a dangerous glint in his eyes, but she didn’t think his growing outrage was directed at her.

 “Well, you’ll… have to feed, and I know places that cater to vamps they have… donors on staff who…” She stopped because Eric’s face had paled and he’d gotten very, very still. Not a good sign.

 “Are you telling me that someone did that to you? Ordered a donor then made you wait in the other room?”

 She gulped and was almost too scared to answer. His eyes narrowed and she could practically hear the wheels turning in his head.

 “Did Bill do that to you?”

 She didn’t have to reply because her reaction gave her away through the bond. Eric curled back his upper lip, his fangs fully down, and growled.

 “I’ll kill him.”

 That sent her scrambling. “He didn’t want to do it! But he was hungry, and he knew he couldn’t feed on me because he’d weaken me too much, and I had to be in top form because…” She rounded, going on the defensive again. “Because  ** _you_**  had rented me out to the Dallas vampires, and I had to be strong enough to find Farrell!”

 Her jibe didn’t work. He was still furious, the waves of rage careening though the bond, and she thought he was going to break the seat because he was gripping the arms so tightly.

 “Eric, calm down!”

 “Calm down? He paid you one of the highest insults one of us can pay to a human, and you want me to  _calm down?_ ”

 “Oh, like, you wouldn’t have done the same thing,” she accused.

 “ ** _Never!_** ”

 He said it with such force that it stunned her speechless.

 “Never,” he said more softly. “I would have drank a whole case of that synthetic crap or gone out to the donor myself before I would have degraded you like that.”

 His admission struck her in a warm place and she teared up. “Yeah, well. You’re a lot older than Bill. You don’t need as much blood,” she said, her voice a little sulky.

 “That’s no excuse.”

 She hadn’t thought so either, but she hadn’t had the courage to tell Bill that at the time. Funny how she’d always been a little afraid of him. She’d been terrified of Eric, but that had never kept her from speaking her mind. If anything, she was convinced her willingness to get in his face had kept her alive.

 There was silence between them, and she was glad to feel his anger fading. What replaced it was an odd jumble of emotions that she had difficulty interpreting.

 “Does that mean you won’t order room service? Even if we…” she began tentatively, picking at a bit of lint on her sweater.

 “I can subsist on synthetic blood if I have to, and Isle Elena will have food choices that I wouldn’t normally have available to me. I do, however, harbor a deep hope that we will resolve our differences quickly,” he replied before she could finish the question.

 He’d said the word “quickly” with a husky rasp in his voice, and his accent deepened like it always did when he was struggling with his emotions.

 She cast a glance at him. He was watching her like a lion watches the gazelle he’s chosen to eat. Butterflies started fluttering around in her belly, and a new wave of lust hit her, but she tamped it down for both of their sakes.

 “And if we don’t? Are you going to be okay?” she questioned, motioning to the bulge that was still in his pants – or had it gone away when he’d gotten angry but come back when she’d started feeling frisky again? She hadn’t noticed. She was noticing now. She could almost see the complete outline of his erection pressing against the confines of the jeans, and she remembered how… adequate his endowments had been. It made her squirm a little.

 “You really need to stop that or I’ll break my promise,” he warned, his nostrils flaring. “And as for whether or not I can go without sex for 4 days, I have gone without for a lot longer than that.”

 Somehow the thought of Eric being celibate didn’t enter into her worldview of him.

 “What are you saying? How long has it been since you’ve had sex?” she asked, not even thinking that it was too personal a question to ask. Her grandmother would have been appalled, but Eric did not seem to be offended.

 “Three weeks and two days,” he answered without hesitation, as if he’d been keeping count – counting the long, arduous nights of depravation.

 For Eric, who spent much of his time in Fangtasia surrounded by fang-bangers who were desperate for his attentions, that was kind of like tossing a recovering alcoholic into a room full of booze. She gasped.

 “You’re joking. That’s…”

 “Exactly the number of nights that have passed since I remembered our time together at your house,” he confirmed. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out, but,” He waved a dismissive hand. “you asked.”

 She stared at him. He was sitting there, calm as could be, admitting that he’d gone without sex for almost a month, all because he had remembered the sex they’d had when he was cursed.

 His erection hadn’t faded. Now she knew why.

 “You’re joking,” was all she could say, but inwardly she was remembering another vampire who had denied himself for three weeks, or more vividly the amazing sex she and Bill had had after they’d made up. Eric had gone just as long. And he was better in bed… Oh, God.

 “I’m not.”

 His voice was strained. He could feel her reaction to his admission, and it had to be stretching his control. She tried to rein it in before he jumped on her, because right now if he moved she knew what would happen. She’d be splayed out on the loveseat lickety-split, and half of her would be overjoyed to find herself there. The other half was backpedaling like crazy because she didn’t want to face the implications of what he’d done.

 “Why would you do such a thing?” she demanded.

 “Fidelity is very important to you. I wanted to prove to you that I could be faithful,” he replied, then shifted a little uncomfortably. “All the same, with all of the distractions of the new king and your brother, and also because you have spent the last three weeks avoiding me as much as possible, it has been very… difficult for me.”

 She stood up, needing to put distance between them in order to process what he’d just told her. The reasoning went too deep, and she just couldn’t deal with it right now. She still hadn’t sorted out how she was feeling about him, and now he’d dumped this in her lap.

 “No. Oh no, I don’t believe you. You forget that  ** _I_**  never forgot those days you were at my house.  ** _I_**  know your sex drive. You couldn’t go four hours let alone almost four weeks!”

 “Are you doubting my ability to commit? You think I cannot control my urges enough to remain true?”

 She ignored the edge of warning in his voice and pressed on, “I’m saying that you spend your nights surrounded by fang-bangers who’ll jump at the chance to throw themselves at you. You can’t tell me you haven’t had any of them for almost a month.”

 “I gave up  _fucking_ , Sookie. I didn’t give up  _feeding_. Of course I’ve had them. The difference is they haven’t had  _me_.”

 “I’m sure they’re so disappointed,” she sneered.

 “As a matter of fact, they are. Pam accused me of being bad for business.”

 “Then why did you do it?”

 “I told you why. Fidelity is one of your most strict expectations.”

 “Eric, we aren’t dating! We aren’t a couple! We aren’t anything to each other!” she shrieked.

 His hand slapped down on the table and the little peg leg holding it up cracked. The whole thing gave way and crashed against the cabin wall. The sound made her freeze and stare at the broken table that now hung by one hinge. He rose up, a blond Norse God of rage, and towered over her.

 “You are my blood-bonded,” he growled, reaching for her arm. She cowered and cringed away from him, but that only made him angrier. He grabbed her by the shoulders and made her look at him. “Do not be afraid of me! I am not going to hurt you.”

 “Let me go!”

 He complied immediately, and she almost stumbled because she’d lost her balance when he’d grabbed her. She steadied herself by grabbing hold of the back of the closest recliner seat and used it to keep herself standing. She was panting and going into overload. Eric was angryanguishedhurtworriedfrusrated. She felt the tears welling in her eyes, and she bent her head to rest her forehead on the seat in an attempt to get herself under control. If she could calm down, he would too. Maybe. Judging by the amount of pain and frustration coming across the bond, that was doubtful.

 Suddenly everything stopped. Oh not the jet or the Earth spinning on its axis or her own head spinning with it, but everything from the bond. It went from a screaming tangle of emotions to one big blank. She felt nothing. Nada. Zip. Not even the buzz of Eric’s life force humming along in the background. It was like he wasn’t there anymore.

 Horrified, she whipped her head up to see that he’d sat down in the plush chair. He was motionless, staring straight ahead, and she thought he’d gone into downtime, but if so it wasn’t like any downtime she’d ever seen any vampire do. At least then, she’d had a sense of the being in the reanimated body, but this was like there was a hole where Eric had been: a big, black empty chasm his presence had once filled. The hole was cold and it  _ached_.

 Was this what it would feel like if Eric was killed? Her knees went weak.

 “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

 His voice drowned out the rushing in her ears, and she looked at him, her eyes wide. He was back, the buzzing, the humming of his life entwined with hers, and the hole filled up again, but it was full of sorrow and heartache.

 “Eric! What did you just do?” she cried, forcing her legs to support her long enough for her to slide into the seat of the plush chair.

 “I cut off the tie.”

 “You can do that?” Her chest was throbbing, aching like a limb that was coming back to life after it had gone numb.

 “If I try hard enough, yes. It’s a protection. If I were being tortured, I could make it such that my blood-bonded couldn’t feel it.”

 “To spare me the pain.”

 “Yes.”

 He looked away, and she’d never seen him so… subdued. She probed the bond, sifting through the emotions and trying to figure out which ones were hers. She was frightened and confused. Eric was miserable. Great way to start a four-day trip.

 “You don’t want to be tied to me,” he stated. His voice was devoid of all emotion. “I knew in Rhodes when I offered myself in Andre’s place, that you would come to resent it. Do you hate me already?”

 “No, Eric. I don’t hate you.” Of that much she was certain.

 “That’s good. That’s a good place to start.”

 She looked down at her hands. “I don’t know how I feel,” she admitted.

 “That seems to be a common issue with you.”

 “I’m sorry.”

 “Don’t be. I want you to be honest with me. We have no hope of reaching any understanding if we aren’t completely up-front with each other.”

 She nodded. He was right, of course.

 “If we’re being honest,” she began, biting her lip. “then, no, I wouldn’t like it. I admit, being blood-bonded to you is… confusing and inconvenient at times, and frustrating most of the time, but I wouldn’t be happy if we weren’t connected because then that would mean that… you were dead.”

 “My death would hurt you.”

 “Yes.”

 “Your rejection hurts me. You fight our bond all the time, Sookie. The only time you didn’t fight was when I couldn’t remember who I was. Then… then you were everything I knew you could be.”

 He stopped, but his face said that there was more he wanted to say. Whatever it was, he held it in. He looked at the ceiling of the jet, then out the small window to the night sky. She looked out too, seeing the clouds lit by moonlight and more stars than anyone saw from the ground these days because of all the light pollution.

 They watched for a while. She breathed. He didn’t. But in the silence broken only by the humming of the jet engines, the chaos swirling in the bond ebbed and faded. They both calmed, and she felt the contented happiness that had become so familiar to her when she was in his presence creep back into her mind. Normally, she would resent what she felt was an artificial manipulation of her emotions, but right now she was glad for it.

 She let her eyes slide to the side a bit to peek at him in profile. He was still looking out the window, his expression thoughtful and far away. It was so different from his trademark leer and overconfident look, but then she had seen less and less of that Eric lately, especially when they were alone. Knowing what she knew now about his sacrifice, she wondered what else he would be willing to give up.

 “Did you really give up…” she asked softly.

 “Yes. But I don’t want to talk about that now. Things aren’t calmed down enough between us,” he interrupted.

 Read: I’m a hair’s breadth away from losing it again.

 “Okay. What should we talk about?”

 “I have no idea.”

 “Why don’t you tell me more about where we’re going? You said you’d been there once before?”

 “Yes, a couple of years before we went public. The Queen brought me and the other Louisiana Sheriffs to Isle Elena to discuss our feelings on the subject,” he said.

 “And how did you all feel about it?”

 “There were mixed feelings, of course, but we all agreed that it was getting harder and harder to hide our existence. Advances in human science and technology were outpacing us, and we knew it was only a matter of time before we were discovered. With the release of synthetic blood, we had a reason to take off the masks. We ripped off the veil before it could be done for us, and in doing so, we ensured our survival.”

 She processed what he’d said and took it in.

 “So it was a political move for you.”

 “It was a self-preservation move. None of us would have gone public if we hadn’t known our very existence depended upon it.”

 She nodded. She knew quite a few vamps who were not at all happy with the status quo.

 “What’s Isle Elena like?”

 “It’s a peaceful place. There is a main lodge near the lakeshore. The dining room and communal rooms are there. There are a few suites in it as well, but most guests stay in separate lodgings situated around the property.”

 “What kind of room will we be staying in?”

 “I’ve requested a cottage suitable for someone with my particular needs. Which means it will have a light-proof room attached to it in some fashion where I can spend the day.”

 “So we’re going to be in our own separate cabin?” she pressed, trying to form a picture of the place in her mind.

 “If we get the accommodations I requested, yes, and I can’t see why we wouldn’t. The last time I was there, there were plenty of cottages and cabins. Most guests coming to Isle Elena value their privacy.”

 She tried to imagine a little cabin on a lakeshore, tucked away amid the trees. Maybe there would be a fireplace. Maybe it would be in the bedroom. She glanced at Eric to see that he was watching her. She looked down at her hands again.

 “I’m sorry this trip isn’t turning out the way you wanted it to.”

 “No. I knew, given your history with men, that reaching an understanding with you would not be easy. To be honest, this is actually going better than I expected.”

 She gave a mirthless snort. “Given my history with men,” she repeated dourly.

 Funny how the only one she’d really connected with had been a vampire with amnesia. What did that say about her?

 “Don’t be so sad.”

 She winced. He’d said the same thing to her in her living room, right before he’d realized that she’d had his blood.

 “I’m not. Not really,” she sighed. “Just…”

 “Let’s not talk about this now, Sookie,” he said, his voice very gentle. It was the kind of voice that always put her at ease, and she relaxed. “We’ll land at Isle Elena in under two hours. From there we’ll check into our lodgings and have some supper. After that, we’ll begin our conversation. We have… much to say to each other, I think.”

 She had no doubt about that. That was what she was afraid of.

 Had she been at home, she probably would have taken any excuse to beg off and get him to leave her alone. She might even have gone as far as rescinding his invitation to her house just to get rid of him. If he chose to object or follow her, she could have listed many reasons for why it wasn’t a good time for her to talk. But with the advent of the trip, all of those excuses had been removed. She couldn’t claim work or trouble with her brother or issues with the Weres or a problem with the house in order to avoid facing him. The moment she had stepped on the plane with him, he’d taken her away from all of those distractions.

 How pragmatic. How typical of Eric to do such a thing. He knew she had been avoiding him and making excuses for not seeing him. Now he had removed all of those obstacles and forced her to deal directly with him. And she’d walked right into his little trap like a blind cow.

 Piggybacking on that revelation was another one that was equally distressing. Eric knew her habit of leaving when things got rough between her and Bill. He’d asked her specifically if that was how she handled problems in her relationships. At the time she’d said she hadn’t known (and she hadn’t. Bill had been her first boyfriend. How could she have known?) but now even she was noticing a pattern. If she’d had a choice in the matter, she would have left him there an hour ago. If they’d been landing in a city, she would have booked either a flight back home or rented a car and drove. But they weren’t going anyplace like that. No, once again Eric had been shrewd in his choice of locations.

 He’d chosen a remote island retreat so she wouldn’t be able to run away from him.

 


	4. Chapter Four

_Chapter Four_

  

 She was silent while she digested her newfound understanding. Eric was silent as well, his face unreadable, but his emotions saying that he was calm and, mostly, content.

  _‘As he should be. I’m his little prisoner, and he didn’t even have to kidnap me to get me. I just walked into it all by myself,’_  she thought.

 But then she realized that she was being unfair. Eric hadn’t kidnapped her or coerced her or persuaded her to go with him under false pretenses. He’d been very upfront that the trip would be for them to get away so they could talk about their bond, his returned memories, and where they would go from there. It wasn’t his fault if she was having second thoughts, nor was it his fault if she was resenting how well he knew her.

 She sighed mentally and looked out the window again just so she wouldn’t have to look at him while she worked some things out. No. If it was anyone’s fault it was her own. She knew Eric. She knew he was a master manipulator and highly effective at getting what he wanted. She should have realized that he was up to something the moment he suggested the trip. She really had no one to blame but herself, and now she had to figure out a way to get out of the mess she was in. Maybe she could get someone on Isle Elena to help her get home. Maybe she could convince a staff member to stow her away on a return flight. It would serve Eric right if she gave him the slip, and prove to him that she was not someone he could bend to his will.

 Her brief moment of righteous indignation faded when she realized that leaving Eric high and dry would probably do irreparable harm to their relationship – such as it was. No matter how much she might wish things were different, she and Eric were blood-bonded permanently, and nothing short of the death of either of them was going to change that. And since it had already been established that she did not want Eric dead, even though she knew of two individuals who would be happy to do the deed for her, she had no choice but to deal with him.

 Given what he had told her about his abstinence, she could predict that he was going to make a very serious play for her attentions, and she once again winced at his powers of observation. He was damn right that she would insist on complete fidelity and monogamy from him before she would accept him, and the fact that he’d already predicted that, and had begun to comply, was a huge show of commitment on his part – not to mention deeply touching. He knew very well that she knew the extent of his libido, and he knew very well what his sacrifice would mean to her, especially since he’d stuck to his decision even after she had made it inordinately hard on him (no pun intended!)

 Nearly four weeks. He’d gone without for almost  ** _four_**  weeks. Eric the Sex God Northman had just said no. For her. Wow.

 She looked at her watch and marveled that only 90 or so minutes had passed since he’d picked her up. It seemed like eons ago, and she felt like someone had run her through a ringer, but forgot to hang her up to dry. Exhausted, she let her head fall back against the seat and closed her eyes.

 “Tired?” she heard him ask in a tender voice.

 “Yeah,” she admitted. There wasn’t any point in denying it because she knew he could feel her weariness through the bond.

 She heard him get up, and she opened her eyes to see him going over to the loveseats. Curious, she watched as he pressed some tabs on the legs of the table and pushed it down to the level of the seats. With practiced ease, he flipped up the seat and pulled forward, surprising her when the whole thing slid to lie flat. He did the same with the other loveseat, and soon the two loveseats had been converted into a bed with the lowered table serving as a support for the newly formed “mattress.” Lastly, he pulled open a built-in storage compartment under the loveseat and retrieved a travel-sized pillow and a blanket. When he was finished, he presented the bed to her with a flourish and a wry smirk.

 “How’d you know it did that?” she asked.

 “I’ve seen similar designs in other places,” he answered.

 “When are we supposed to land again?

 “We have another hour and three-quarters, give or take twenty minutes,” he replied.

 She eyed the “bed,” puzzling out how much actual rest she’d get if she tried to take a nap. She doubted that she would get any sleep, but pretending might give her an excuse not to talk to him, although she had no illusions that he wouldn’t get into the bed with her – or at least try.

 She was still mulling it over when she saw him offer her his hand. “Dear One, you are exhausted. You’ve worked yourself to the bone the last few days, and by your own admission, you’ve barely gotten any sleep. I predict that we will be up late tonight talking at the very least, and I’d rather you not fall asleep on me.”

 She debated her options and tried to predict the consequences of defying him. She knew she could be stubborn like her brother, but she wasn’t a fool. Eric was right. She was worn out on a number of levels, and she needed to be thinking clearly when they got to where they were going if she was going to be able to outwit him.

 “Alright,” she agreed, refusing his offered hand and rising to her feet on her own. “But no funny business,” she warned as she sat down on the makeshift bed. It was surprisingly soft and comfortable.

 “I would never,” he whispered as he knelt on one knee at her feet.

 The next thing she knew, his hands were sliding down her calves and his fingers were hooking into the backs of her sneakers, slipping them off and dropping them to the carpeted floor. Then he picked up her right foot and began massaging her ankle, letting his fingers move down to rub the ball of her foot. She groaned, and it was the only sound that was made for several moments until Eric broke the silence.

 “My feet were bleeding,” he said in that same gentle voice he’d been using, as his fingers worked their magic all along her calloused heel and aching toes. “I’d been running on the road and I’d ripped them open. You brought me into your kitchen, you made me sit down, and you washed my feet. You crouched down and placed them in warm water. You bathed the cuts and gently took out the dirt. When you were finished, you toweled them dry.”

 He switched feet, placing her right foot down and picking up the left. His touch was reverent and sublime. She closed her eyes, unable to process the sight of him, gorgeous undead Viking that he was, kneeling before her like a supplicant. She could feel the echoes of pleasure through the bond and the pads of his thumbs.

 “No one had ever done such a thing for me. I didn’t remember it then, but I do now. I remember how safe and cared for you made me feel. I was a stranger to you as far as I was concerned, yet you took me off the road and gave me shelter. Your touch was a balm to my addled mind. You took away my fears. I had no idea who I was. No idea how I’d gotten on the road, no idea what had happened to me, but in that moment, sitting in your kitchen, watching you wash my feet, I knew I was in a safe place with a good woman who would take good care of me.”

 She felt a single tear escape her closed eyes to run down her cheek, but if Eric saw it, he didn’t call any attention. Instead, he finished with her feet and shifted to hook his arm under her legs while the other went around her back. Gently he lifted her up and placed her carefully down on the bed, tucking her legs up onto the mattress.

 She was drifting, her body limp and her mind on the edge of blissful oblivion, and she felt him put the pillow under her head and cover her with the thin blanket. Then his fingers brushed back her hair and his cool lips kissed her temple.

 “Sleep well, my lover. I’ll wake you when we’re about to land.”

 She thought she made a little mumble of assent, but she wasn’t sure it actually made it past her lips, and then it didn’t matter because she was asleep.

 

888888

 

 “My lover. My lover, wake up.”

 She groaned a protest because she’d been warm and comfortable, and she hadn’t wanted to move, but then a tongue, moist but cool, ran a wet trail from the juncture of her shoulder, along her throat, up to the soft spot behind her ear. Tingles ran down her spine as her entire body came to life. Beside her, Eric growled soft and low. Eric…

 “Eric!” she scolded, slapping his mouth away as she opened her eyes.

 He was beside her on the convertible bed, his blue eyes dilated, his fangs fully down. The very sight of him made her shiver.

 “You promised no funny business,” she accused, trying to rein in her screaming body. Yes, it had been almost four weeks for him, but it had been even longer for her, and her sex drive was doing happy dances all over her sanity.

 He bent his lips down to kiss the same soft spot behind her ear, his fang scraping lightly. “I don’t know about your sense of humor, lover, but I don’t find anything remotely funny in what I am doing.”

 Her answer was a strangled grunt as his hands slid along her ribcage, and his fingers began kneading her flesh like a contented cat as he sucked her skin into his mouth, pressing it against the front of his teeth and fangs.

 “Ungh,” she gasped as her body betrayed her. Was he going to bite her? Was she going to let him?

 Her heart was going wild. She knew she should stop him. She knew there were very good reasons for stopping him, but she just couldn’t think of any at the moment. She cried out when he bit lightly, not enough to break the skin, and he gave another one of his tortured moans. She writhed and arched her back, and he responded by throwing one leg over hers so his crotch came into contact with her thigh as he nibbled on her earlobe. He began an erratic grinding against her leg in time with his staccato suckling. Their mutual lust merged in the bond, sending all semblance of conscious thought out of her mind as her body screamed a victory cheer…

 “Attention Isle Elena guests. We will be landing in approximately fifteen minutes. Please return all luggage you may have retrieved to the stowage compartments, return to your seats, and prepare for landing. We hope you have had a pleasant flight, and enjoy your stay on Isle Elena,” came an overly cheerful, pre-recorded voice across the jet’s P.A. system.

 “Fuck,” she heard Eric growl.

  _‘Yes! No! No! Don’t stop!’_  she wanted to scream, but he was already pulling away from her, his eyes wild, his hair in disarray, the tent in the crotch of his jeans straining against the seams.

 She reached for him, one last desperate attempt to pull him back, but he’d moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands.

 “Saved by the pilot,” he said, but he didn’t sound too happy about it.

 She sighed, trying not to pout too much, and joined him on sitting on the edge of the bed. Their legs were touching, and he turned to look at her, a wry smile on his face.

 “You’re so much trouble,” he commented with a little shake of his head.

 She snorted. “You’re the one who wanted to drag me onto this trip.”

 His face softened and he brushed her cheek with a fingertip. “True.”

 She wanted to say something now that she was starting to come down off of her high, but words got caught in her throat, and he was urging her to stand up anyway so he could put the two loveseats back into their original positions and pull the table back up to its original height. She returned to the big plush recliner seat and settled herself into it, feeling a little uncomfortable without a seatbelt.

 “What are you going to do about that table?” she asked, indicating the broken support post and bent hinge when he resumed his seat in the chair across from her.

 “Pay for the damage of course.”

 “What will you tell them about how it got broken?”

 He shrugged. “I could be honest and say I hit it when I lost my temper, or…” He leered at her, a perfect picture of the Eric she had come to know. “I could tell them we were being friendly and discovered that the table couldn’t support both of our weights.”

 She resisted the urge to slap him on the arm. It was just like him, but the lewd suggestion actually made her feel better and put her on a more even keel.

 “You would too.”

 He preened a little. “Of course.”

 “And you say  _I’m_  so much trouble,” she complained. “You’ll have everyone thinking we did nothing but have sex the whole flight here.”

 “We wouldn’t be the first,” he replied reasonably, but that didn’t make her feel any better. She frowned at him, and he frowned back, his face growing thoughtful. “I’m glad though, that we were interrupted. I was about to break my promise, and then I would be angry with myself. But you were too tempting lying there all tucked in the blanket. I couldn’t resist.”

 “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’m a big scrumptious vampire éclair, complete with fairy blood,” she scoffed.

 He gave her a disapproving look. “You really need to stop blaming your fairy blood on why I feel for you. The fact that you are part fey is not why I am attracted to you. I have been with many, many women who have claimed a fairy ancestor, and none of them have touched me the way you do.”

 She swallowed and looked away from his intense stare, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks.

 “You once said it explains a lot,” she mumbled.

 “I meant it explains why you’re a danger magnet and why so many supernatural beings are drawn to you. I didn’t mean for you to assume it was an excuse for why I…”

 He stopped because she had whipped her head back up and was staring at him like a deer in headlights.

  _‘Don’t say it. Don’t say you love me!’_ she thought frantically. She couldn’t handle that right now, not with the memory of his hands and kisses so fresh in her mind. She longed for the Eric he had been, not who he had become.

 “For why I knew you were special from the moment I met you,” he finished carefully, but it sounded hollow even to her.

 She pursed her lips and looked away again, peering out the window in hopes that she could see the approaching ground, but it was too dark.

 “Did you sleep well? It seemed like you did. You weren’t restless or uncomfortable,” he asked, probably trying to distract her from her second least favorite part of flying: the landing.

 “I guess so. I do feel more rested, but if I dreamed I don’t remember it.” She remembered something he had said earlier when she’d found the blue dress. “You said you had dreams of me in the blue dress. Do vampires dream?”

 “Sometimes, but it’s not the same as human dreaming. If we dream during the day, we usually don’t remember them.”

 She nodded. It sounded pretty much like human dreams to her, but she wouldn’t argue. She could feel the plane descending, and could almost sense the ground getting closer and closer. She tensed up and Eric grabbed her hand, making her look at him. She let him hold her with his eyes, willingly allowing herself to sink into his blue stare until the world condensed into nothing more than his face looking at hers. A moment later, the jet touched down without so much as a bounce or a bump.

 She let out the breath she was holding as the plane taxied safely on the ground, and Eric gave her a sardonic smile and released her hand. She cast around for their things and discovered that he had repacked the garment bag while she was sleeping, leaving out only the heavy parka. Since her cranberry coat was nowhere to be seen, she assumed that he must have packed it in the garment bag with her new sweaters and dress. He’d left the boots in there too, it seemed.

 The plane was still moving, so she stayed seated, but she focused her eyes on the closed cockpit door, anxious to be out of the small jet. Eric cleared his throat – a very human thing to do – to get her attention, and she turned her head to see him regarding her with a very serious expression.

_‘Uh-oh…’_

 “My lover… There are some things I must tell you. Some things you must be… prepared for,” he began carefully, and her anxiety levels went through the roof.

 She felt him trying to influence her mood through the bond, trying to calm her down so he could continue. She took a deep breath and looked him directly in the eye, mustering up her courage.

 “Okay, what do I need to know?”

 He regarded her seriously and nodded, seeming to have come to a decision.

 “You will see things most humans never see. Keep in mind that the vast majority of guests on Isle Elena are not human. Some of them will not look like anything you have ever seen. Some of them may look very frightening and alien to you.” He reached over and took her hand again, and she felt his strength flowing into her, just as she had felt it flowing into her on the night of the queen’s trial in Rhodes. “But remember this: you are  ** _perfectly safe_**  here. No one will hurt you; no matter how scary they might look. There are no enemies here, for either of us. I am with you. If there is a problem, I will deal with it. I will protect you if need be, but I have no reason to believe that you will be in any danger while we are here. Do you understand?”

 She nodded and he went on.

 “Now if you see something that startles you, don’t stare. Avert your eyes and give yourself a minute to process. Do your best to stay calm. The guests here come here to be themselves so they will make no attempt to hide what they are. You must be ready for that. Understand? You must be your usual perfectly mannered Southern Belle.”

 She smirked but nodded. “Okay.”

 He smiled back, his smile tinged with pride. “That’s my Sookie. I know you can do this. You are brave and smart. It will take you a little bit to adjust, but I know you will do me proud.”

 She straightened up, bolstered by his belief in her, and he leaned forward to give her a kiss. She returned it, then sat back as he released her hand, and turned her attention once again to the cockpit door.

 The jet had come to a stop while he was talking to her, and she clenched and unclenched her hands impatiently as she waited for the pilot to exit so he could open the door and let them out of the plane. She heard the snick of the lock disengaging and saw the door swing open, then she saw exactly what Eric had been trying warn her about.

 What had gone into the cockpit had been a dark-haired White man in a blue uniform. What came out was a… a birdman. Or something. He had feathers for hair, gray ones that stuck close to his head, and a beak where his nose and mouth should be.

 She swallowed her gasp and dropped her eyes, but not before she saw him reach for the locking mechanism on the exterior door and saw that his hand only had three, long, grey-skinned, taloned fingers like those on a bird of prey. She gulped, but felt Eric close to her, calming her and giving her courage.

 “Come, my lover,” Eric said, offering his hand. She grabbed it and held on for dear life.

 He ushered her to her feet then released her long enough to slip her new, super-warm parka on her, his hands massaging her shoulders briefly, then he took her hand again and guided her to the open portal. The “pilot” was still standing there, waiting for them to disembark, and she cast him a brief glance and a nervous smile.

 “Hi. Pleased to meet you. Thank you for the pleasant flight,” she said, knowing her Southern accent had deepened in her nervousness.

 The birdman looked at her, his eyes completely round and yellow just like a hawk’s, and gave her a small nod and a little high-pitched trill that she hoped was a good sound. She felt her lips pulling back into her trademark grin.

 She was about to say something else when the wind from the outside rushed in and hit her in the face.

_‘Oh. My. God.’_

 She stood stock still, not believing what she had just felt, but Eric turned his face to the door and breathed in, letting out a satisfied sound. He grabbed her hand to pull her forward. She resisted. He felt the resistance, looked back at her with a frown on his face, then rolled his eyes and stepped towards her. She took a little step back, afraid that he was just going to pick her up and sling her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, but he just dug his hand into the pocket of the parka and pulled out a hat and gloves. He shoved the hat impatiently, but gently, on her head – a little lopsided she might add – and slipped the gloves onto her nerveless hands.

 “Come, lover,” he said, taking her hand again.

 She dug in her heels. “No. No. No,” she pleaded, but it was useless to fight him as he pulled her, inexorably, towards the open door. She heard the birdman making little cheeping noises that sounded suspiciously like laughter as she was dragged past him.

 Once out of the jet, she experienced the full horror of it. It was cold. No… It was  ** _freezing_**. The wind was a wild beast that ripped its way across her tender, Southern skin. The frigid air threatened to freeze the moisture on her eyeballs. She was certain that if she were to spit, it would be solid before it hit the ground.

 “Eric!” she cried as he brought them both to stand at the top of the folding stairs.

 His eyes were bright and he was grinning like a madman. He was jubilant in the face of the frozen wind. It took his hair and sent it in frenzied, blond whips that lashed against his white skin. She saw him open his mouth and breathe it in, his fangs fully down, then he turned to her, his expression ecstatic.

 “This will go much faster, my lover, if you let me carry you.”

 She was too cold to argue, already shivering, and she managed a nod. He laughed and presented her with his back, gesturing her to climb on the way she had ridden him the night Hallow and her brother had been sneaking around Bill’s house. She slid onto him, her hands gripping his shoulders as her legs wrapped around his hips. He hooked his arms under her knees and leaped down the stairs. She held in the scream, certain that the wind would freeze the saliva in her mouth. Why! Oh why, had she ever agreed to this?

 She tucked her face into his shoulder and the back of his neck to shield it from the cold, and she mused that if she’d bothered to date a man who actually had a pulse, he might actually have been warm. As it was, the most he could offer was protection from the wind.

 “Eric! I’m going to kill you!” she threatened, squeezing her eyes shut because they were watering so badly.

 His only reply was a throaty laugh as he ran with her clutched close to his body.

 ‘ _I’m dead. I’ll be a Sookie-sized popsicle by the time we get inside. Would serve him right if I froze to death before he could get me into bed! Stupid, Sookie! Stupid! Stupid! He’s an effing **Viking**. He loves the cold! Oh, I’m going to die!’_

 “We’re almost there, my lover.”

_‘Oh good, because I can’t feel my toes anymore. Or my face, or my hands…’_

 A moment later, she heard the sound of his booted feet landing on a wooden surface, and she cracked her eyes open to see that they were on the deck of a massive stone and wood lodge. It looked like something out of the Great North: rough-hewn logs as wide a Volkswagen, huge panoramic windows spilling warm light out into the darkness, stone walls supporting a sprawling, steeply pitched roof.

 He brought her in through a set of sliding glass doors that emptied immediately into a stone entryway, and through a second set of doors that opened after the first set had closed. Once inside, he strode purposefully into a huge great room with a ceiling that had to be three stories high and a massive stone chimney that had to be even higher. He set her down in a rocking chair, one of at least a dozen, placed in front of a large hearth with a set of cast iron fire-grate doors with carved-out patterns to let out heat and light. The roaring fire in the hearth began the process of thawing her out as Eric gently pulled off her hat and gloves.

 “There, my lover, now you will be warm. Stay here while I go check us in.”

 She wanted to tell him exactly what she thought of his choice of venues, but her teeth were chattering too much. He gave her a swift kiss, his lips icy from the cold, and vanished.

 It took her several moments to thaw out enough to unzip the parka and peel herself out of it, but she finally managed, and soon she was feeling less like a popsicle and more like herself on a cold day in Bon Temps. She slid the rocking chair closer to the fire, and warmed her hands, before she took a good look around.

 So far, she was the only one in the huge room, and she noted numerous sitting areas defined by large, woven throw rugs that looked Native American. In addition to the rocking chairs, there were also several leather loveseats with tables, café tables and chairs, and even a grouping of large beanbag chairs all clustered around what looked to be a Parcheesi table. The décor was mountain rugged, with exposed beams along the roof and furniture in deep earth colors like brown, tan and green. It really did look like a hunting lodge, the kind she saw featured on the Travel Channel as some of the best places to stay in the Frozen North. She never thought she’d actually ever be inside one.

 If she hadn’t been keenly aware that she’d been dragged there by an undead Viking who was  ** _way_**  too happy to be there, she might actually have liked the place. It was warm and homey in its own way. Not Bayou Chic or Southern Antebellum, but nice, and she could appreciate how well cared-for the place looked. But she had to figure out a way off the island before she either froze to death or did something stupid, such as letting the undead Viking keep her there until they’d “come to an understanding” and giving him even more hold over her than he already had.

 She cast about mentally, trying to get a lay of the land. There were many minds all around her in rooms nearby and moving about the large structure. Most of them were only marginally readable to her telepathic powers and a few were “nulls” like the vampires. She brushed over them, searching for a mind she could reach out to in hopes that she would find someone willing to help her. She couldn’t possibly be the only human on the island, could she? If she was, her cause was sunk.

 She was just about to give up hope when two minds came into her range. Both were unmistakably human, but one was clearly a much better sender. She brushed against them, tentatively probing, and was shocked when both noticed they were being scanned immediately. One blipped off her radar as if the person – she was pretty sure it was a woman – had thrown up a shield, but the other honed in on her.

  _‘Who are you? What do you want?’_  came a rather belligerent “voice.”

 She mentally scrambled, trying to retreat, but the mind followed her.

**_‘Who are you?’_ **

  _‘I’m Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse,’_  she answered.

_‘What were you doing probing our thoughts?’_

 So the two humans were together, she realized. ‘ _I’m sorry. I just got here and I was trying to see who was around.’_

_‘Don’t you know it’s not polite to go around poking into other people’s brains?’_

 She winced. She knew too well, but she was in trouble and she needed help. The mind, she was sure this one was female too, picked up on her thoughts and came “closer.”

  _‘What kind of trouble?’_

_‘I need to get off this island.’_

_‘Why? You said you just got here.’_

_‘I…’_  What could she say? That she’d been kidnapped? That she’d been dragged there and was now being held against her will? She felt guilty for even thinking about it because she knew it wasn’t true. But desperate times called for desperate measures, right?

 Mental laughter echoed in her head. ‘ _No one will believe you,’_  came the rebuke.

 The scolding stung and she rallied,  _‘Why? Because a Supe would never kidnap a human and hold her against her will?’_

_‘Of course they would. Happens all the time. The difference is they wouldn’t bring them **here** ,’_ came the cryptic explanation.

_‘What do you mean?’_

 There was silence, then the voice said more gently,  _‘What did the “Supe” as you call it, tell you about this place?’_

_‘That it was a safe place for Supes to come.’_

 More silence.  _‘Nothing else?’_

_‘Not really. He said Supes come here to be themselves, and that it’s one of oldest and most carefully guarded places like it in the United States.’_

_‘That’s true. Only those who have been here before or who have been invited can come here.’_

_‘He also said it was cold, but he didn’t tell me it’d be **freezing!**_ ’

 More mental laughter.  _‘You think this is cold?’_

_‘Yes!’_

_‘Honey, you don’t know cold. It’s not even in the single digits out there yet. It’s only going down to 22 tonight.’_

_‘ **Twenty-two!**  I’m a Louisiana girl! I’m going to freeze to death!’_

_‘Ask your Supe to keep you warm,’_  came the sly reply.

  _‘He doesn’t have any body heat!’_  she bemoaned.

_‘Ah, one of them.’_

 Just then the object of her consternation returned looking far too joyful for her misery.

 “We’re all checked in, my lover. We’re in cabin 16,” Eric told her.

_‘Boyfriend’s back?’_ the voice asked, obviously picking up Eric from her thoughts.

_‘He’s not my boyfriend.’_

_‘Whatever. I don’t really care. But you ought to ask him to tell you more about this place and why demons come here.’_

 She wanted to ask the voice more, like her name for instance, but the mystery woman had put up a shield too, and had blipped off her radar like her companion. Her last words bothered her, however, and she wondered what the woman was getting at.

 “It’s just after 9 o’clock. I figured we’d get some supper, then retire to our cabin,” Eric suggested. “Are you hungry?”

 “More thirsty. I could use a hot drink.”

 He offered her his hand – he seemed to be doing that a lot – and she took it, allowing him to gently pull her to her feet.

 “I am sure we can get you something hot to warm your insides. Come, lover, the dining room is this way,” he said, tucking her arm into his and guiding her from the room.

 “How are you feeling?” he asked gently, an amused smile on his lips.

 “Well, I can feel my feet again, and since my nose already fell off, I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

 He chuckled and kissed her nose briefly. “You’ll get used to it, I promise. It really isn’t that cold. It just shocked you because you weren’t ready for it.”

 “It shocked me because it’s  _effing_   ** _cold_**  out there! You could have warned me,” she scolded as they walked together.

 “I did warn you.”

 “You could have tried harder,” she argued.

 “I did my best to prepare you by giving you the things I knew you would need to stay warm,” he pointed out.

 She scowled.  _‘Stupid, pragmatic vampire.’_ “So you did, and I thank you for it. My cranberry coat would not have been able to keep me warm while we were here.”

 “You’re welcome. I couldn’t have you catching cold and going home sick. Your shifter boss would stake me if I brought you home with the flu.”

 She snorted. “Forget Sam.  ** _I’d_**  stake you if you made me get the flu.”

 “Duly noted.”

 As Eric guided her along a wide corridor, she heard an increasing hum of conversation that grew louder and louder until they came to a large, solid wooden door. Eric opened the door and they entered into a huge dining room with a wall of windows that faced some sort of view that she couldn’t see because it was nighttime. There was another big fireplace like the one in the great room, but this one was in the middle of the room, its stone chimney dominating the area.

 They stopped at the hostess’ desk and waited to be seated. She took a very brief moment to look around the room, taking in the numerous guests all seated at the sturdy, wooden tables and in the rustic, mismatched chairs. She dropped her eyes almost immediately, her heart pounding with worry and fear. Eric took her hand.

 “Don’t be afraid. Remember what I told you? You are safe here; even moreso because I am with you. I won’t let anyone hurt you, my lover,” he reminded her.

 She cast him a frightened glance, half wanting to bolt, screaming, from the room, but pride and commitment (and Eric’s arm) kept her there. She only hoped she wouldn’t live – or worse, die – to regret it. Closing her eyes, she found her center of strength and felt Eric giving her all that he could through the bond. She calmed, opened her eyes, and gave him a smile. He smiled back, a warm, genuine smile that made her forget that she was the only human being in the room.

 One minute later a young woman with blue skin and black hair came to take them to their table.

 


	5. Chapter Five

_Chapter Five_

 

 

       “A table near the fire please,” Eric told the hostess. “My companion is not used to the cold.”

       The blue-skinned woman nodded and veered her path to move towards the large stone hearth. “Of course, sir. This way, please,” she said in a voice that was heavily accented, but Sookie couldn’t place it.

       They were guided to a table adjacent to the fireplace, and Eric pulled back the chair closest to the warmth. He took her coat and draped it on the back of her chair as she sat down and pushed her seat in like a Southern Gentleman, then he sat in the chair opposite. The hostess handed them each a menu, but Sookie noticed that the one she was given was different from the one given to Eric. Her menu was large and had three pages, but Eric’s was a single page of cream-colored paper attached to a 6 x 9-inch rigid backing.

       “Thank you,” Eric said pleasantly.

       “Toth will be your server. He will be by shortly to take your order.” The woman turned to her. “Can I get you anything from the bar?”

       Sookie gulped, but the woman did not seem offended or phased by her discomfort. “Umm, a gin and tonic, please.”

       Their hostess nodded and left them be. Eric perused his menu with interest, but she was afraid to look at hers. She didn’t want to know what a demon retreat would offer as acceptable human food. She finally bit the bullet and was shocked to find such banal offerings as meatloaf and chicken Parmesan. While she was deciding, a cocktail waitress delivered her drink. She’d needed it because the girl had animal ears on her head and a cat-like tail twitching out from the back of her short skirt. She shoved her face into the menu and pretended she hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary. A glance towards Eric found him smirking at her.

       She was half afraid to order the barbeque baby back ribs, opting instead to try a honey roasted half-chicken entrée that she hoped they didn’t screw up too badly. Once she had made her selection, she put her menu down and took a more thorough look around the room, forcing herself to take in all the different Supes who were eating their dinners or conversing with their companions. The room was full of multiple languages, some of which she knew weren’t normally spoken anywhere she was from. Soft Classical music was playing in the background, something violiny and smooth. She knew Supe hearing was heightened and sensitive to loud noise. So much so that she often wondered how the vampires stood the blaring music played in Fangtasia. She’d never actually asked how they did it.

       But looking around, she recalled what the unnamed telepath had told her. She’d said that she should ask Eric about why Supes came here, and seemed to hint that the resort had a reputation of some kind – one that would make people skeptical if she went around saying that the undead Viking had kidnapped her and was now holding her against her will.

       ‘ _Happens all the time. The difference is they wouldn’t bring them **here**_ _,’_  the voice had said. So what did that mean? What kind of a place was Isle Elena if no one there would believe she was being held hostage?

       She gasped, her eyes going wide. What if… what if it was one of those “couples” places? Like the ones she’d always seen advertised on television? All-inclusive places for people to go on romantic getaways, usually on a beach somewhere with lots of sunshine and skimpy clothes. What if Eric had brought her to the equivalent of a Supe  _Sandals_?

       She grabbed her drink and took a deep swig, trying not to choke on it. Would Eric do that? Oh, you bet he would! It’d be just like him to drag her to a Vamp Love Nest. She scowled and turned to accuse him of just that when the look on his face gave her pause. He wasn’t watching her, his eyes were on the fire in the hearth, and he looked… far away yet sad. He looked like he’d looked the night he’d driven her to meet her great-grandfather when he’d admitted that she had saved his and Pam’s lives.

       Swallowing her indignation, she took another look around the room. If her theory was correct, then there should be lots of happy couples mooning at each other over dinner. But other than one couple who were holding hands across the table, she wasn’t seeing any signs of marital, or extra-marital, bliss. At the same time, she didn’t see any children present either, so it didn’t look like it was a “family” resort.

       What she  ** _was_**  seeing were groups of Supes in many different shapes and sizes ( ** _lots_**  of different shapes and sizes, some of which were very different indeed!), all enjoying the company of their companions in what looked to be a relaxed, casual way. There was nothing posh or formal about where they were; in fact emphasis seemed to be placed on comfort and surcease.

       She dropped her shields a little to take a mental barometric reading, and found that the overall vibe in the room wasn’t love or lust, but peace and ease. The guests were mostly happy, imbued with a welcome calm and contentment that permeated the room, and there was nothing rushed or frantic about anything, not even the waitstaff who were moving about the dining area efficiently, but not hurriedly.

       “Eric, what is this place?” she questioned, picking up on another undercurrent, but it was one she was having trouble identifying.

       He looked at her and, for the first time since she’d met him, he looked a thousand years old. Not physically, of course, but his eyes. His eyes were ancient and reflected back a millennium of living. She stared at him, and her next words caught in her throat because she had no idea how to respond. Then the point became moot because a fresh-faced, mostly human-looking, young waiter in a simple uniform of black pants and a white collared shirt arrived at their table.

       “Hi. I’m Toth. I’ll be your server tonight,” the server greeted.

       He was thin and wiry, about five foot eight, with a head of silvery colored hair that appeared to be in dreadlocks. His eyes were a piercing Supe violet, but Sookie noted that he had five fingers, human ears and no tail, and she wondered if the choice of waiter was deliberate. She was quickly beginning to figure out that making guests feel safe and comfortable was part of what was happening at the resort.

       “Hi,” she said, pleased to be making herself look at him, and even more pleased that she was managing to control her nervous grin.

       “Would you like to hear about our specials tonight?” Toth asked.

       “Sure,” she replied, folding her hands in front of her.

       “Tonight we’re offering a veal Oscar as our meat selection, broiled Maryland Style crab cakes or Lake Superior Whitefish for our seafood selections, and spinach fettuccine with porcini and oyster mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, asparagus, and squash in a light marsala sauce for our vegetarian selection,” Toth recited without hesitation or having to look at any notes.

       She blinked. “Wow.”

       Toth smiled, then turned to Eric. “For you, sir, we have a limited supply of fey Bloodvine and Rhesus AB negative on hand.”

       “Human AB neg or Bloodvine AB neg?” Eric asked.

       “Both, sir.” Toth looked at them. “Are you ready to order?”

       “Ummm. What the hell, I’ll try the crab cakes,” she answered, handing him her menu.

       “Excellent choice. And for you, sir?”

       “I’ll have the fey Bloodvine, diluted with O neg,” Eric replied.

       “Would you like to mix the dilution yourself or would you like us to mix it for you?”

       “Bring me the pods and I’ll do it myself.”

       She creased her brow. It was like he was speaking another language for all she understood what he was saying.

       “And for your O neg, would you like human, synthetic or Bloodvine?”

       She looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

       “Bloodvine, and bring me one shot of the AB neg, also Bloodvine. In deference to my companion, I won’t drink human blood in her presence.”

       She half expected him to add “unless it’s hers,” but he didn’t. She wasn’t certain if she was impressed by his restraint or disappointed.

       “Understood, Sir.”

       With that, Toth was gone.

       “What was that all about?” she asked.

       “What specifically are you referring to?” he replied, looking innocent. She knew better.

       “The bit about not drinking human blood in front of me, and that stuff about fey Bloodvine. What is fey Bloodvine?”

       “Bloodvine is the demon-world equivalent of TrueBlood. It is a genetically engineered plant created to imitate human blood. It comes in a number of varieties. Obviously O and AB neg are human blood type varieties, but the fey one is designed to mimic fairy blood,” Eric explained.

       “So you’re getting fairy blood or the plant equivalent of it,” she stated carefully. She knew fairy blood was intoxicating to vampires.

       “Yes, but it’s potent so I am going to dilute it with the O neg.”

       “And the AB neg? That’s the rarest blood type in the world, isn’t it?”

       “The second rarest. The rarest is Bombay blood. I’ve had it, and found it… not to my taste. Humans with Bombay blood are not appetizing to vampires.”

       “Why not?” The subject was macabre but interesting.

       “Bombay blood is…” He paused to search for a word. “sour. It tastes… off. Like meat that’s gone too long without cooking.”

       “It tastes rotten then.”

       He nodded. “Something like that.”

       Just then the cat girl came by to bring her another gin and tonic, whisking away her empty tumbler without a word.

       “What is she?” she asked, trying not to stare at the girl’s tail.

       Eric shrugged. “A cat demon of some sort. Half-demon from the looks of her.”

       “How can you tell?”

       “She looks half-transformed, like a Bitten Shifter instead of a Born one.”

       “So she was bitten?”

       “I didn’t say that, but it’s unlikely because even Bittens look human most of the time. That one looks like that all the time. I’m inclined to believe that one parent was human while the other was an Asian neko-youkai. She has the bone structure for it.”

       His matter of fact answer was both welcome and disturbing. She was trying to think of another question when he waved his hand to the general room and looked askance at her.

       “So, what do you think so far?”

       She narrowed her eyes. “I think its freezing and I want to go home.” There she’d said it.

       He didn’t seem surprised, but he didn’t seem like he was going to do anything about it either. His mouth tugged up into a small smile.

       “It isn’t that cold,” he stated.

       “Look, Eric, you might have come from the frozen North, but I’ve barely left Louisiana. I’m a Southern Girl, and I can’t handle these cold temperatures,” she argued.

       His eyes opened wide and she felt his amusement before she heard him laugh.

       “Sookie. Sookie…” he answered, shaking his head, his shoulders heaving with his chuckles.

       She was about to start in on him about laughing at her when their eyes met and she stopped short.

       “Sookie, my dear. You have faced down religious zealots. You have survived being shot, staked, kidnapped, beaten up, and burned out. You have lived through a Were War, Witch War, a bombing and a coup. Are you seriously going to tell me that you fear you will be done in by a little weather?”

       As she tried to formulate an answer, he reached over and took her hand. The touch was electric and part of her cracked open. She didn’t want to tell him that it wasn’t the weather she feared would do her in, but her own feelings. She didn’t want to tell him that she missed him or that she loved him or that she wanted him back the way they had been. She didn’t want to admit that he was the only man who had ever made her feel important, the only one who had ever put her first (even if he couldn’t remember who he was at the time.) She didn’t want to say that she would give nearly everything she had just to feel the way he’d made her feel for those few days again, or admit that she grieved him as one would grieve a lost loved one. She didn’t want to say any of that because that was scary, and honest, and risked too much pain.

       She was trying to figure out a way to escape the rush of emotion that was taking her over when suddenly he was in her, all around her, flooding her with the very essence that was him. It was like they had merged, like the bond had opened completely, and they were one being in two bodies now rejoined. She thought she might drown.

       But just as quickly as it happened, it was over, and she felt him receding like a spring tide, scraping away the layers of sand to reveal the buried shells beneath.

        _‘All the masks are coming off now,’_  she thought, but she had no idea where it had come from.

       They were still holding hands when she came out of it, and she knew she must look shell-shocked, but he appeared unruffled. His steady confidence did more to reassure her than anything else, and she cast a nervous glance around the room to see if anyone had noticed that the world had stopped spinning on its axis for a moment – at least for her, but the incident seemed to have gone unmarked.

       “I’ll make you a deal. Give me one day. If you still want to go home by tomorrow night, we’ll leave,” Eric offered.

       She pulled her hand from his grasp and tucked it into her lap, still reeling. Eric came into her again, not as completely this time, and she felt his calming influence, like he’d taken her gently by the shoulders and steadied her. He didn’t seem at all phased, or surprised, by what was happening.

       “Eric…”

       She was interrupted by Toth bringing her salad and Eric’s drink. He placed the decent sized salad in front of her, then set what looked like a small, black lacquer rice steamer in front of Eric, along with a tall glass and small knife with a narrow blade. Eric thanked him. The server nodded and disappeared again.

       Glad for the distraction of the food, she began to eat her salad while she watched Eric lift the lid off the steamer to reveal what looked to be a bunch of steaming, squishy avocadoes. She saw Eric breathe in and let out a satisfied sigh before he selected one of the things and pierced it on one end with the narrow-bladed knife. She tried not to choke on her cherry tomato as he squeezed the red liquid inside the pod into the tall glass. He did the same with another, then lifted out a third, but this one looked different. It was smaller and had bright pink veins along the surface.

       Eric raised the small pod to his face and breathed deep. She felt the rumbling pleasure come across the bond, and she was surprised by her own echoing pang of arousal. She watched as he pierced the pink veined pod just a little and squeezed a bit into the glass, then he put the small pod back into the steamer, closed the lid to keep in the heat, stirred the liquid in the glass and took a drink.

       She stopped eating as ecstasy crossed his face, followed by a deep appreciative groan that came from low in his chest. She felt it even lower, and she crossed her legs. It didn’t help when he closed his eyes and licked his lips like a cat that had just gotten into a bowl of cream.

       “Enjoying yourself?” she questioned.

       “Oh yes,” he answered with a sigh.

       The sex in the voice made her shiver, and she quickly returned to her food, refusing to look at him and trying not to hear his little sounds of satisfaction every time he took a sip. It was bad enough she was feeling it across the bond. She’d once referred to fairy blood as chocolate for vampires, but now she was beginning to think that analogy was a little off the mark. Maybe it was more like top shelf liquor or pure heroin even. Whatever it was, she knew it spelled trouble for her later. Odd that she couldn’t seem to bring herself to care. Eric was in raptures. Damn blood-bond.

       She finished her salad, and Toth magically appeared (not literally, but obviously like he’d been watching them) to remove her empty plate and deliver her entrée. The crab cakes smelled delicious.

       “Another drink, miss?” he asked, seeing her nearly finished gin and tonic.

       Judging by Eric’s growing intoxication, she opted out. “No, thank you. Do you have iced tea?” She didn’t dare hope for sweet tea.

       “Yes, miss. We have unsweetened, raspberry and sweet tea.”

       “Y’all have sweet tea?” she blurted, surprised.

       “You’re from the South, aren’t you, miss?” Toth asked suddenly.

       She nodded. “Yes. I’m from Louisiana.”

       Toth nodded as if she had confirmed what he already knew. “We knew you were coming so we tried to have things you would like on hand. Mr. Northman gave us a list.”

       A quick glance to Eric had him looking very smug. She recovered from her shock and smiled.

       “Well, then, I’ll have a glass of sweet tea, please. Thank you very much.”

       Toth nodded and vanished again. She turned to her undead Viking.

       “You gave them a list?” she asked.

       He set down his glass and smiled at her. “Standard questionnaire for first time guests. I tried to remember everything.”

       She dropped her eyes and turned to her food. Knowing him, he’d told them all of her likes and dislikes, right down to the brand of ketchup she preferred.

       “Thank you. That was very thoughtful of you.”

       “I want you to be comfortable here, Sookie. I want you to enjoy yourself. Do you agree to my offer?” he asked in a gentle voice.

       She gave him a surly look and nabbed a bite of her crab cake. It was delicious.

       “One day. I’ll give it one day, and if I still want to go home tomorrow, you’ll take me home, right?”

       “Agreed.”

       “Okay.”

       They ate, or rather she ate and he continued to have vampire food orgasms as he drank his blood squeezed from squishy, demon-engineered avocadoes. One of his hands was down below the table, and he was sitting back a little in the chair. She didn’t dare to speculate what he was doing, but she did notice that he was pacing himself; mixing only a small bit of the fey Bloodvine into the larger portion of O neg. The grossest part of the meal came when he lifted another smaller pod from the steamer, this one veined with purple, and bit directly into it, sucking out the blood directly from the source. His mouth came back bloody, and he licked his lips slowly, savoring the flavors. She tried not to gag because her dinner really was fabulous.

       She was just finishing up the last bite of the rice pilaf that had come with the crab cakes when Toth came to take her dirty plate away and ask if she would like dessert. She was about to say no, but Eric answered for her.

       “Yes. Please bring the dessert tray over.”

       “As you wish, Sir.”

       “I really am full…” she argued.

       “Chocolate hadn’t been discovered when I was still alive. It will give me pleasure to see you eat it,” he answered, a smoldering look in his blue eyes.

       “I would think you’ve had enough pleasure for one night,” she countered, pointing to the almost empty glass in front of him. He was nearly finished drinking his meal.

       He smirked and raised the glass to his lips, watching her over the rim. “You should know me better than that.”

       She swallowed hard and was grateful that Toth brought a tray full of unbelievably sinful-looking confections that made her mouth water and her waistline shriek. She finally chose something she thought was the least offender of the lot: some fruit dipped in chocolate, although she could see that Eric had wanted her to pick the mousse. Toth nodded his approval and placed the plate of chocolate-dipped strawberries, orange slices and a medley of raspberries, blueberries and cherries in front of her.

       “Eat them slowly,” Eric told her, and she saw him shift a little further down on his chair. She didn’t need to look under the table to know he’d spread his legs.

       Taking deep breath, and not believing what she was about to do, she picked up a strawberry and held it to her mouth, letting her lips wrap around the fruit as she sucked off the chocolate. Eric watched her with intense eyes, and she saw that his fangs had come down a little. His tongue was pressed to his bottom lip. She bit down on the fruit, letting the juice flood her mouth. God, it was good. Eric groaned. Sweet Jesus, Shepherd of Judea, that was a turn on.

       The small berries were in a little bowl, swimming in melted chocolate. She picked one up and slipped it into her mouth, never taking her eyes off her former lover. She savored the sweet-tartness, then swallowed. Eric’s eyes seared into her as he watched the play of her throat, and she squirmed in her seat. She’d never done anything like this before, but she was amazed at how exciting it was. She almost wished the plate had included a chocolate covered banana.

       She was shocked by her own brazenness. Sweet Southern Belles did not imitate oral sex with fruit in the middle of a crowded dining room, but then she speculated that she hadn’t been a sweet Southern Belle since she’d started dating dead guys. She ate another strawberry and followed it with an orange slice. She thought Eric was going to jump her right there and screw her on the table. She would have let him.

       She was eating the last of the small berries in the bowl, and anticipating a very hot and satisfying evening, when the room took on a definite hush. She stopped eating as she noticed the change in the air, and she searched for the source. Eric was looking too, his eyes sharp and alert, all of his previous heat and lust smothered by the tension. She did a visual sweep of the room, following the gazes of the now quiet guests, and found that they were all focused on three newcomers being led by the blue-skinned hostess to a table close to their section.

       It was the two human women whose minds she had touched, or at least she assumed they were since she was still the only other human she had seen, and they were accompanied by a little boy who appeared to be about 6 or 7 years old. One woman was lovely with glossy black curls that framed her sweet face. She looked like a gypsy princess, all delicate grace and tempered fire. She was dressed in black jeans and an off-the-shoulder black Jersey sweater that made Sookie shiver just looking at her.

       It was obvious that the boy was hers because he had the same hair, although not as curly, and the same light-boned frame. He was also dressed in black with a sleeveless muscle shirt, cotton pants, and a pair of long, fingerless gloves that went all the way up to his elbows. Sookie heard him laugh about something as he trotted next to his mother.

       The second woman was drab compared to her companion. Dressed in blue jeans and a dark blue, long-sleeved shirt, she had brown hair that she’d shoved back into a ponytail and a round face that wouldn’t repulse anyone but that wouldn’t make the covers of any magazines either. She was the kind of woman who never got noticed, who faded into the background because she was plain and ordinary, but Sookie got the impression that she was anything but ordinary. The woman followed the mother-son pair with an air of alertness and tension, looking at each of the guests until her eyes fell on her.

        _‘So **there**_ _you are,’_  came the mindvoice she had heard earlier.

       She gulped and shored up her shields. Cutting mental laughter broke right through them.

       The woman’s eyes fell on Eric and an odd expression crossed her face.  _‘Oh honey, I see the problem, and I can’t help you. You’re gonna have to face that one yourself.’_

       She wanted to ask her what she meant, but the connection had closed again, and she watched from one corner of her eye as the three moved past them to sit at a table several places away near the back wall of the room, alongside a large window.

       She was still trying to process when she heard Eric address the hostess.

       “Excuse me.”

       She looked up to see the blue-skinned woman standing next to their table. Eric must have motioned her over when she wasn’t paying attention.

       “Yes?” the woman asked.

       “Is that who I think it is?” her Viking vampire asked in a voice that was almost reverent. She sat up and paid attention.

       There was no need for the hostess to ask who Eric was referring to. The trio were still being watched by most of the guests, although they did not seem to be offended or surprised by the scrutiny.

       “Ms. Piazzi. Yes,” the hostess answered.

       “Is she here personally or professionally?” Eric questioned.

       “Both actually. She’s been here all week, but her last performance is tonight at midnight. They’re leaving on Tuesday.”

       “Are there any tickets left for the show?”

       “There aren’t ever any tickets, Sir. Ms. Piazzi plays for whoever wishes to hear her, and the great room is large enough to hold all of our guests. If you wish to attend, all you need to do is show up.”

       “Thank you,” Eric said and dropped his eyes.

       She looked at him when the hostess was gone, waiting. He looked very thoughtful, so thoughtful that she was almost afraid to interrupt. She glanced over at the table where the two women were sitting. They seemed to be having a pleasant conversation with their waitress, who was a gorgeous young woman with magnificent black hair, creamy coffee colored skin and four arms. She gulped. The plain one flicked her eyes her way, and she looked down at her dessert plate immediately.

       “What was that all about?” she asked.

       Eric didn’t answer right away so she looked up at him to see him sitting there with a very serious expression on his face. All of the earlier heat and anticipation had disappeared from the bond, and she wondered what the hell was going on. Three minutes ago she’d been certain that they were about to leave to go have the greatest sex of her life, but now…

       “What’s going on, Eric? Who is that woman?”

       He snapped out of his reverie and regarded her with a mixture of disappointment and indecision.

       “She is a… performer. One I was not expecting to see here,” he replied carefully as if he was afraid to give too much away.

       “Okay. So… I’m guessing that you want to go to the show tonight?”  _‘And maybe skip the sex with me?’_  she was afraid to add.

       He looked positively torn in two, and she could feel his struggle through the bond. Instinctively, she reached out.

       “Eric, what is it?”

       “If I were a religious person, I would say it was a sign from a higher power.”

       Well,  ** _that_**  was the last thing she expected to come out of his mouth.

       “A sign of what?”

       “That I made the right decision. That I brought you here to the right place at the right time.”

       “Why? What does her being here mean to us?” she asked, pushing the dessert plate aside and leaning forward to take his hand.

       “An opportunity. One I… don’t think I can ignore,” He looked miserable to have to say it, and she tried to be the understanding girlfriend, even if she wasn’t his girlfriend, or not yet, or… oh  ** _whatever!_**

       “Look. The hostess said tonight’s her last performance, right?” she prompted

       He nodded.

       “So you might not get another chance. That’s what you’re thinking, right?”

       He nodded again.

       “And you’d really like to hear her play whatever it is she plays, right?”

       “Violin, and yes. I would very much like to hear her play.”

       She patted his hands reassuringly. “Then we’ll hear her play. I mean, it isn’t like she’s going to play all night, and we’re going to be here another three days, so it isn’t like there won’t be time for us to… talk.”

       Suddenly she realized that Eric’s wanting to go to the performance postponed the talk she had been dreading. Yes, it postponed the sex, but it also bought her more time before she had to face whatever it was he wanted them to become.

       “Do you really mean that?” he asked, and for a moment he sounded so much like the Eric she had loved, she almost choked up.

       “I do.”

       He closed his eyes, then raised her hands to his lips and kissed them tenderly. “Thank you. Once again, I can’t believe my luck.”

       Now she did get choked up, but she fought it back. It was no time for a weepy scene no matter how much she wanted to throw herself into his arms and cry her eyes out.

       “Hey, I can tell it’s important to you. You once said that what’s important to me is important to you. Well, the same holds true for me. If you want to go, we’ll go. You’d do the same for me.”

       He nodded and she felt his gratitude through the bond. He released her hands and they separated, each of them sitting back in their chairs in order to give each other a little distance to process.

       “Are you finished eating?” he finally asked her.

       She looked at the dessert plate and nabbed the last strawberry, popping it into her mouth. “I am now.”

       He rose to his feet, walked to stand beside her, and offered her his hand. “We have some time before the performance. I want to show you some things here in the lodge.”  

       She looked at her watch; it was just after 10:30pm. They had an hour and a half before the performance.

       “Should we go to our cabin first? Do I need to change?”

       He shook his head. “No. You’re beautiful just as you are. Besides, if we stay here in the lodge, you’ll only have to brave the cold once.”

       “Where is our luggage anyway?” she asked, accepting his hand and allowing him to pull her to her feet.

       “It’s been taken to our cabin for us.”

       “Do you know where that is?”

       “Ironically, yes. Cabin 16 was the cabin the queen and Andre stayed in when she brought us here eight years ago,” he answered, curling her arm around his and guiding her out of the dining room.

       “That is ironic. Is it nice?”

       He nodded. “It is adequate. It’s surrounded by trees, very secluded and private. The bedroom is a loft on the second floor with its own balcony that has a view of the lake, and there’s a windowless room off the back of the first floor for me to spend the day,” he described, walking with her down the corridor they had traveled on their way to the dining room.

       “Sounds nice.”

       “It is.”

       They were back in the great room with the huge fireplace.

       “This is the great room. You’ve already been here. It is the main gathering place for the resort,” he told her. “If there is anything going on as far as an activity, it will be here or start here.”

       He took her past the great room down a short hall to another large room, this one set up like a hotel concierge. A pleasant-looking woman with green hair and horns on her head was behind the check-in counter. She looked up as they went by and gave them a toothy smile. Sookie managed to smile back, earning her a pleased look from Eric. Hey, she was getting better at dealing with all the weirdness.

       “This is the concierge. If you have any problems or concerns, or if you need anything during the day, this is the place to come. There is no phone or satellite service in the rooms, but each cabin has an intercom that connects to the main desk here.”

       She gasped. “No phone and no TV?”

       He chuckled. “The guests who come here are usually seeking to escape the technology of the modern world, although I learned that the lodge recently added an Internet café on the lower level, and of course, there is satellite television in the sports bar and in a number of lounges here in the main lodge.”

       They left the concierge and he took her to a grand staircase made from split logs. One set went up, and another went down to a lower level. They took the flight that went down, and the stairs emptied into a large game room set up with such pastimes as billiards, darts, and air hockey. There was also a large screen TV equipped with a game console, and two young male demons with fox tails were there playing Grand Theft Auto, yelling and whooping at the screen. She shook her head.

       They skirted the room and went through a set of double doors that opened onto a cozy study with a small fireplace and a number of comfortable chairs and lounges.

       “The library is through here,” Eric told her, guiding her through yet another set of doors. “I know you have some interest in reading. I think you will find their collection to be extensive.”

       She looked around the large, softly lit room, taking in the shelves and shelves of books with appreciation until she noticed what looked like a microfiche machine. Eric followed her line of sight and moved them closer.

       “That’s a universal translator. Any book you place on it will display the language of your choice on the screen. Most of these books are in different languages. The translator allows you to read anything you like no matter what language it’s written in.”

       “My goodness, Eric, that’s amazing. Why don’t the Supes share that with the humans?” she blurted, staring at the device with awe.

       He gave her a soft smile. “We can’t solve all of humanity’s problems for them, lover. Besides, there are some things humans aren’t meant to know.”

       She snorted and gave him a look that made him stop and bend down to kiss her.

       “I can taste the chocolate on your lips,” he breathed, making her shiver all over.

       Bill always hated to kiss her after she’d eaten. So much so that she always scrubbed her teeth thoroughly after each meal so he would never taste food when he kissed her. But Eric didn’t seem to mind the taste of certain things in her mouth as long as it wasn’t garlic. All vampires really hated garlic.

       They looked at each other, emotions swirling across the blood bond, until Eric moved to guide her from the library back out to the game room.

       “Come, lover, there is something in particular that I want to show you.”

       “Okay.”

       They passed the game room and entered into a wide corridor, Eric walking slowly so she could look at all the paintings on the walls. Some of them looked familiar and she wondered if they were originals.

       “Many guests of Isle Elena have donated works of art to the lodge. You’ll find art displayed everywhere here. There’s even a gallery on the third floor,” he told her.

       They came to a set of closed doors and Eric reached out to push them open, moving her across the threshold into a large, circular room. The center was mostly open, but there were a few chairs and places to sit on the floor. All around the perimeter of the room were statues, each backlit with soft light, and each representing a deity.

       They were in a shrine.

       She looked around, taking in the figures. There were some she recognized: Buddha, Isis, one of the multi-armed Hindu goddesses, a Chinese goddess playing the lute… she even thought one might be the Virgin Mary, but most of them were unknown to her.

       Eric released her arm and walked over to one of the statues. It was a wooden carving of a woman in a long gown with a wide belt. It looked very old and Sookie stayed quiet as Eric knelt on one knee before the deity and lowered his head. She heard him whispering something but it wasn’t in any language she understood. She stayed quiet and waited until he had finished his prayer.

       When he was done, he rose to his feet and rejoined her.

       “Who is she?” she asked, nodding her head towards the wooden statue.

       “Hlin, Handmaiden to Frigga,” he replied, pronouncing the names in the true Old Norse tongue. “She is the goddess of consolation.”

       He gestured to some of the other statues in the room, identifying them for her. “Isis, Egyptian Goddess of Life and Healing. Kwan Yin, the Chinese Goddess of Compassion. Tara the Hindu Goddess of Peace and Protection. Brigit the Celtic Goddess of Healing. Imhotep the Egyptian God of Healing. Ishtar. Kwannon. Hina. Baba. Buddha. Gula. The Virgin Mary.”

       He stopped and turned to the figure of Hlin again.

       “You asked me at dinner what this place was. Isle Elena is the place you come to when you are weary. When you need healing and peace. It is the sanctuary of solace and comfort.”

       He looked at her and his eyes were a thousand years old again.

       “I don’t think either of us can argue that we don’t need some peace right now. We both have… suffered greatly in the recent times. We both have suffered… loss. And I…” He sat down on one of the chairs. She sat down next to him, close but not touching. “I am… tired.” He said the word as if the weight of the universe was on his shoulders.

       His admission scared her. She remembered what Pam had told her in Merlotte’s about old vampires wanting to meet the sun, and, of course, she remembered Godfrey, but she never thought she would worry about  ** _Eric_**  wanting to die.

       “Eric…”

       He waved a hand. “I don’t want to die. It’s nothing like that. I just want everything to stop for a while. In the past year or so, since I met you, I’ve been shot numerous times, been badly burned, cursed, nearly blown up, and almost killed by a rival state.

       “A massive hurricane decimated our kingdom and made us ripe for takeover. Many vampires I considered my colleagues and friends died, and my queen was murdered as she lay helpless, recovering from the bombing in Rhodes.

       “The new regime still isn’t sure about my loyalty so I am in constant fear for myself and for those who owe me fealty. I am always looking over my shoulder, wondering if someone is spying on me to discover a reason to kill me.”

       He took a deep breath. “All of it is exhausting. I needed to come to a place where none of that could follow me. I needed to be where I could rest. So I came here.”

       He looked at her. “And I brought you with me, Dear One, because you need solace too. You’ve suffered so much: the loss of your grandmother, Bill’s betrayal, Quinn’s betrayal, your brother’s deceit… Not to mention your frequent injuries and brushes with death. If I could shield you all the time and prevent you from suffering another bullet wound or bruise or horror that made you cry, I would. I would take a thousand bullets for you, my lover, if it would spare you pain.”

       What could anyone say to that?

       “All the masks are off,” she whispered, more to herself than to him.

       “Yes. You can only be what you are here. No pretenses. That’s it’s magic and it’s Gift,” he said.

       Well, now she understood what the woman meant when she said no one would believe she was being held against her will. Who would bring a prisoner to a place where no one could hide their true self? She had noticed that Eric was becoming more and more like the man he’d been when he was with her, and less the arrogant, manipulative boss vampire. Maybe she’d been right about that persona being a front Eric had assumed in order to survive.

       “Thank you for sharing this with me,” she said, trying to get her thoughts in order. “I really appreciate it when you talk to me like this. It makes me feel important and valued.”

       “You are always valued.”

       “But I don’t always feel that way. Thank you for being honest.”

       “You are my blood-bonded. I know you don’t really understand what that means, but I am hoping that you will by the time we leave here.”

       “Me too,” she replied, and she was surprised to realize that she meant it.

       He sighed and cast a glance around the shrine. It was a quiet, peaceful place.

       “We should go back upstairs. Others will be gathering in the Great Room to wait for the performance,” he said.

       “All right,” she agreed, and they both rose to their feet.

       Eric took her hand and they exited the shrine. He closed the door and made sure it was secure before they both left it behind and headed up to the main floor.

 


	6. Chapter Six

  
_Chapter Six_

       “So… where’s the pool?” she asked, trying for some levity as they walked arm-in-arm, back up the stairs to the main level of the lodge.

       It worked because he laughed. “Well, one could argue that we are surrounded by a very large one.”

       “I am not going swimming in Lake Superior,” she stated flatly. “I really  ** _would_**  freeze.”

       “That you would,” he agreed with some seriousness. “The pool is in a different building behind this one. The gym and sports bar are there as well.”

       “Is there a hot tub?” she questioned.

       He laughed again. “Yes, I do remember a hot tub… and a sauna too.”

       “A sauna?”

       “Yes. A… a hot room. You know, with steam, although most times it’s a dry heat,” he explained, fumbling a little as he tried to think of words. The look of concentration on his face was endearing.

       “I know what it is, but I’ve never been in one.”

       “Ah. We should… fix that while we are here. Saunas are wonderful things. I have one in my house.”

       “You do?” That was kind of like Bill and his bathroom for six. Bill had a huge shower and the big soaking hot tub. Now Eric had a sauna. What was it with vampires and their bathing habits?

       “Of course. I’ve always used saunas. They were invented by the Finns, you know,” he said, bending his head towards her.

       “No, I didn’t know. Are you telling me that you had saunas a thousand years ago?”

       “Oh yes. We would build them from stone and put a woodstove inside. The wood would heat the rocks and warm the room, then we would pour water on the rocks to make the steam. We would bathe that way in winter. In summer we bathed in the lakes.”

       She snorted. “I never thought of Vikings having good hygiene.”

       “We were a very clean people,” he insisted.

       His indignation made her giggle. “I’m sorry. It’s just that the image of Vikings taking lots of baths doesn’t fit with the whole rape and pillage thing.”

       “We didn’t all rape and pillage. Yes, there were raids, and there was robbing, but only a few of us raped, and those that did were not looked upon kindly. I’ve never forced a woman in all my long life,” he countered, his voice offended.

       Of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t have had to. The women were probably throwing themselves at him.

       “I know you didn’t. You could have forced me lots of times, but you didn’t. You pushed the line sometimes, but you never crossed it. And when I talked to the new bartender at Fangtasia, Felicia, she said you don’t demand sexual favors if the woman isn’t interested,” she assured him, hoping to soothe his ruffled feathers.

       They were almost to the great room, having passed the concierge and moved into the main hall.

       “I’ve never had any need. If I wanted a woman, it was easy enough to find one who was willing,” he replied simply.

       They entered the great room. Even though it was still a half-hour to midnight, the room was already beginning to fill with… people? Supes? Demons? All but one of the café tables were occupied, and Eric headed for the one that was open. It was closest to the bank of rocking chairs that sat right in front of the fireplace. She noticed that the fire was still burning merrily in the hearth.

       “Well, you do have an… impressive figure. I’m sure you turned heads even back then,” she commented as they sat down across from each other.

       The flames in the fireplace were making patterns of light and shadow on the walls and surfaces in the room, and she noted that it lit on Eric’s hair, making it blaze golden for a moment. She looked away.

       “You called me beautiful,” he whispered, and she snapped her head up to see him gazing into the flames. The firelight did the most amazing things to his eyes. She blushed, feeling a tightness in her chest, but he wasn’t finished. “You liked my butt. You would ogle me when I wasn’t looking. You thought I didn’t notice.”

       She choked on a giggle, and they looked at each other. His eyes were glowing, but they were warm. It made her tingle inside.

       “And you were so offended when I didn’t say I liked your  _gracious plenty_  best,” she teased lightly.

       He laughed and his eyes turned smoky. “Yes, but I think I brought you around to my way of thinking.”

       “Nope.”

       He raised an eyebrow. “Nope?”

       She shook her head, smirking. “Nope. I still like your butt best.”

       “I see… then I shall have to redouble my efforts to change your mind.”

       Heat rushed from her groin down to her toes and she shivered, but she tried to tamp it down. “Oh I don’t know if you’ll be able to do that.”

       “Sookie, I am far more talented with my… gracious plenty than I am with my ass.”

       She shrugged. “I’m sorry. Some guys like to ogle boobs. Some girls are size queens… not that you have any trouble in  ** _that_**  department. But I like butts. It’s just a preference.”

       He let out a deep laugh and shook his head, then he leaned close across the table and whispered in a voice that was pure sex, “Then I’ll put up a mirror above my bed so you can watch my butt while I’m fucking you.”

       Oh. God. The heat was going to burn her alive if she didn’t have her fire put out soon. Did he really want to stay there and listen to some strange woman play her damn violin? She didn’t know if she could last that long. She was certain that she would implode before then.

       “Can I get you anything from the bar?” a voice asked, nearly scaring her out of her skin.

       She jerked, not even realizing anyone was there, and whipped her head around to see the cat-girl from the dining room.

       “I’m sorry if I frightened you. I forgot that humans don’t have heightened hearing,” the cat-girl barmaid apologized.

       A glance towards Eric showed that he was silently laughing at her, and it pissed her off. He could have at least given her a heads up.

       “No, it’s okay. I should be used to it by now. I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”

       “Anything for you, Mr. Northman?”

       “Not at this time, thank you.”

       The cat-girl nodded and walked away.

       “She knew who you were,” she commented. “So did Toth.”

       “Both of them were here the last time I was. Most demons have perfect memories. They remembered me,” he explained.

       “That must be a neat skill to have.”

       He just shrugged.

       “Now I understand why it irked you so much when you couldn’t remember the days you were cursed. That must have been very frustrating for you.”

       “It was,” he admitted. “Forgive me if I was at times too… forceful with you in my frustration.”

       He was referring to hurting her with his strength, she was sure. Like the time he’d been gripping her shoulders and had clamped down too tightly. Now it was her turn to shrug.

       “You didn’t hurt me.”

       “No, but I hurt you in other ways.”

       She didn’t answer, and couldn’t look at him, so they fell silent. The cat-girl returned with her drink, and Sookie smiled a bit when she noticed the half-demon was slapping her feet down to make noise when she approached. She thanked her and mentally promised to give her a big tip.

       Eric was still being quiet, looking at the fire again, and she was happy not to be talking, so she stayed silent and sipped her drink.

       “I told you that we could go back, that I could live with you, and love you. You told me that it sounded like a marriage, and I said yes,” he said suddenly.

       She almost choked on her drink. She had to swallow quickly and wipe her mouth with her napkin.

       “Eric…” she began, scrambling for words, but he wasn’t looking at her and his eyes were far away.

“You answered that you were an idiot and got out of the car, but you’d wanted to say yes. I could feel that you wanted to say yes, but you knew you couldn’t. You knew I wasn’t yours to keep.”

       The raw truth to his words was a knife, but her pain wasn’t his fault.

       “On the way to the witches’ compound, I asked you if you would still see me after it was all over, and you said sure.”

       The knife went deeper, and her hand shook. She wanted to say something, but she couldn’t speak, and he wasn’t done anyway. He needed to twist the blade a little more.

       “But then I didn’t remember any of that, and you… wouldn’t tell me. Even when I tried to force it out of you, even when I hurt you, even when I could feel that you wanted to tell me, even when I blackmailed you into telling me some of it… that you kept to yourself. You stayed silent. It must have hurt you so much to see me, knowing what you’d… what we  _both_  had lost.”

       That required an answer so she breathed around the pain and pulled out the knife herself.

       “Yes,” she admitted, then amended. “No... Sometimes.”

       She wrapped her hands around her drink tumbler and studied the patterns on the melting ice.

       “I’m sorry. I didn’t choose to forget.”

       “I know.” She took another sip of her drink and added, “For what it’s worth, I do miss you.” It was the closest she’d ever come to acknowledging her pain.

       “I understand. Sometimes I miss me too.”

       And of course, Eric would choose to be Eric in that moment, and stab her all over again. He seemed to realize what he had done because he looked guilty.

       “I’m sorry. I know you wanted me to tell you that I’d missed you too, but the truth is I didn’t remember that there was anything to miss. Until four weeks ago, I had no idea what we had meant to each other. I knew what you had told me, and what I’d felt through our bond, but I didn’t truly grasp what it all meant. I couldn’t understand my heartache. I didn’t know why I felt loss when I thought of you. Now, of course, I know better, and I am full of missing you, but I am sorry that it took so long for you to be missed.”

       She understood. He  _did_  miss her, and he was sorry it had taken him so long to remember. The knife slid out, leaving only the bleeding wound behind, but she knew from experience that it would heal.

       “You carried that knowledge inside of you for all that time. Since I’ve remembered, I’ve thought long and hard about what you must have been going through. Everything I did to you afterwards that must have hurt you: my coldness, my anger, my erratic behavior. I wanted to be with you, but I didn’t know why. The not knowing scared me, and confused me, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admitted softly.

       “It was hard for me. Especially when you stopped talking to me after you made me tell you what happened. I thought I’d lost what little relationship we had left,” she said just as softly, letting herself say it out loud for the first time.

       He closed his eyes and she could see a ripple of pain cross his face. “My behavior was unacceptable. I am so sorry.”

       “Don’t be.”

       “No. You are too forgiving. You could have let me die in Rhodes. I’d spurned you, blackmailed you, forced you to take my blood… It would have been better for you to just let me blow up. Instead you risked death yourself to stay in an exploding building to rescue me and Pam.”

       She gasped in shock and offense that he would even have thought she would be so petty. “I can’t believe you would say that. Do you really think I would do such a horrible thing? I even went back into the building to save more vamps, and then Barry and I worked ourselves witless trying to find survivors in the rubble.”

       “I know. Mr. Cataliades told me. He told everyone of your bravery and courage.”

       A tear fell down her cheek and she pursed her lips, remembering that horrible day. “I’m not brave.”

       “Yes, you are. You are the bravest person I know.”

       “Eric…” She wanted to beg him to stop because the wound was still bleeding, and she couldn’t staunch the blood flow.

       He slid the chair around the table so he could sit beside her. She heard the scrape of the feet on the wooden floor, and then he was enfolding her in his arms, and she was against his chest, surrounded by his presence and scent. She sunk into him, and into her feelings, as the bond opened up and his strength came into her.

       “When I was with you, I was deliriously happy,” he whispered into her ear. “I would have willingly given up everything I had in order to stay with you. But you… you knew the truth. You knew who I was. You knew that no matter what happened with the witches, you would lose me. Yet you accepted me anyway, in spite of it even. You knew how it was going to end, but you loved me despite all that. And when it was all over, and I didn’t remember anything, you let me go. You held all that pain and loss inside. That’s the bravest thing anyone could ever do.”

       She was crying in earnest now, trying to stay quiet because they were in a crowded room, but letting “all that pain and loss” come out. Finally. And she was doing it in Eric’s arms which is where she wanted it to be, because it had been between them, and he was her blood-bonded, and he was the only one who could make her feel as safe and valued as she did right now.

       “I’m always weeping when I’m around you,” she said a minute or two later when her tears subsided.

       “I’d noticed that.”

       “You hate it.”

       “I’m getting used to it.”

       The way he’d said it made her laugh, and she pulled away, glad that he’d been wearing the warm sweater because it had absorbed her tears without so much as a damp spot left behind. He handed her the napkin that was on the table, and she dabbed her eyes, then blew her nose in it.

       “Are you sure you don’t want to go to our cabin right now?” she asked, noticing that the great room was even more crowded now and embarrassed by her emotional display, even though it looked like no one was paying any attention to her.

       “I would like nothing more, but no. We need what Maria Piazzi has to offer, even moreso now,” he replied with no small regret.

       “What’s the big deal with her anyway? You talk about her like she’s some kind of special performer, and the Supes in the dining room looked at her like she was the Second Coming.”

        For a moment, she wasn’t sure he was going to answer, and she felt his conflict through the bond, although why he wouldn’t want to tell her was beyond her. Maybe Maria  ** _was_**  the Second Coming, and Eric knew she was religious and wouldn’t take it well. Would Christ come back in the guise of a woman violinist? A Gypsy violinist? With a kid? She gulped and looked to Eric.

       “Maria has a… special gift,” he finally said. “When she plays, she has the ability to heal.”

       Heal? Well, as far as she knew neither of them were injured. Oh. Maybe Maria didn’t heal physical wounds. Maybe she healed other kinds of wounds, the kinds no one could see.

       “Heal? Heal what?” Hearts? Minds?

       “Souls.”

       That was a ringer. “She heals souls?”

       Eric nodded, his face very serious so she knew he wasn’t joking.

       “Maria is a Soul Healer. She’s the rarest kind of healer in the world. She can take the pain and suffering of a lifetime and wash it away. She is especially adept at healing non-humans, and she does this when she plays.”

       “Oh.” Really, was there anything she could say to that?

       “Soul Healers are so rare most of us never see one in all our long lifetimes. In a thousand years, I’ve only heard of two and one is dead. Maria Piazzi is the other,” he went on, ignoring her stunned expression. “So you can imagine my surprise when I realized who she was. For her to be here on Isle Elena at the same time we are… I am sure you can understand why I want to stay.”

       She nodded, suddenly afraid. She’d killed three people: two humans and a vampire. She’d witnessed the deaths of numerous others. She’d been a contributing factor to some of them. What had those deaths done to her soul? What would Maria find there to be healed?

       “Don’t be afraid or ashamed,” Eric said, taking her hand and rubbing her palm with his thumb. “I can assure you that just about everyone else here, myself included, has darker wounds on their souls than you do.”

       She pulled her hand from his abruptly, her Christian upbringing rattling her mind, “Only God can wash away my sins.”

       He gave her a tender look, and she felt him soothing her through the bond. It felt like he was stroking her hair from the inside out.

       “That isn’t what Maria does. She doesn’t offer forgiveness. She helps you to forgive yourself, and to forgive those who have hurt you,” he explained very gently.

       Oh. Would she forgive Bill? Her brother? Her uncle who was now dead? Would she forgive Rene for killing Maudette, Dawn and Gran? She wanted to say something, but right at that moment the woman in question entered the great room, and all the conversations that had been buzzing around them fell silent.

       A raised, wooden platform had been placed on one side of the hearth, and now two tall, burly Supes with gray skin and even grayer hair began to set up microphones and chairs on the makeshift stage.

       Maria was carrying a violin case, and she put it down on the stage as she turned to speak to another Supe who was sporting a furry wolf-tail out of the back of his black dress pants. As she talked, Sookie noticed the other woman come in carrying a guitar case with the boy behind her, carrying his own violin case.

       “Who is the other woman?” she asked Eric.

       “That’s Isabelle. Everyone calls her Izzy. She is Maria’s friend and protector. The boy is Maria’s son, Vincent.”

       She looked at the child, noting that he was still dressed in the sleeveless shirt and long fingerless gloves. What parent would allow a child to wear such light clothing when it was below freezing outside? She reached behind her to feel her new parka, shivering just looking at the kid.

       “He isn’t 100% human, is he?” she asked Eric, already knowing the answer.

       “No. Vincent’s father is a Fire Demon.”

       Well, that explained the clothes. Kid probably didn’t  ** _get_**  cold.

       “Izzy’s a telepath,” she stated.

       “I’m not surprised.”

       As they watched the group set-up the stage, she saw the two women engaging in conversation with any number of strange and alien creatures, none of which seemed to phase them in the least. She felt a pang of envy when she saw Izzy casually talking to a Supe that looked like he was part squid, complete with bulging eyes and tentacles for hands. The very slight of him made her queasy, but the small woman seemed completely at ease.

        _‘Careful, girlfriend, you’re starting to look a little green,’_  a mindvoice jibed.

       She jolted and saw Izzy looking at her from the corner of her eye.

_‘Not everyone can look like tall, blond and gorgeous there. If you’re gonna hang with demons, you’d better get used to some of them looking like something out of a bad monster movie.’_

        _‘And just how am I supposed to do that?’_  she snapped back.

_‘Watch Sci-Fi on Saturday afternoons. Their low-budget stuff is always good for a laugh, and half their Sci-Fi Originals production crew are demons.’_

       “Is she talking to you right now?” she heard Eric ask.

       “Yeah.”

       “What’s she saying? It’s upsetting you, I can tell.”

       What was a good way to answer? “She’s telling me that I should… get over my… prejudices.”

       “Hmph,” her Viking vampire snorted and turned his blue eyes towards the woman, giving her a warning glare.

        _‘Oh, ha ha. Loverboy’s gone all mediaeval,’_  she heard Izzy laugh.

       A second later Eric jolted, and his eyes opened wide with shock.

       “What? Eric, what is it?”

       “She just… No. Never mind, I won’t repeat it.”

       “She  ** _spoke_**  to you? She can read your mind?”

       “Apparently so.”

        _‘You can read vamp minds?’_  she sent.

_‘Sure. Can’t you?’_

_‘No. I have trouble reading most non-human minds.’_

       There was a beat of silence, then,  _‘Interesting.’_

       As frustrating as it was, she couldn’t get any more out of the woman because the set-up was finished, and it was almost time for Maria to perform. She noticed that there wasn’t an empty seat in the room, and there were even a number of individuals standing against the walls. They looked like staff members. She recognized some of the servers from the dining room, Toth included.

       Eric kept an arm around her as he arranged them to sit side by side, facing the stage. She could tell he was being protective, and that made her smile, but Izzy didn’t appear to be paying them any mind. She leaned into him, pressing close, and he turned his head briefly to smile at her and give her a kiss.

       A minute later she felt him stiffen a bit and his attention turn towards something off to their left. She followed his line of sight and saw a beautiful woman approaching the stage.

       “Who is that?” she asked, noting Eric’s tension.

       “That is Elena.”

       She watched as the woman made her way through the crowd with a grace that no human could ever possess. Dressed in a lovely winter white sweater and long winter white skirt with white suede boots, she was the very picture of Hellenic perfection. Her hair was a cascade of thick, black curls held back from her face by a silver clip, and her face looked like something one would expect to see on a Grecian Urn.

       Instinctively, Sookie knew the woman wasn’t mortal, although she looked completely human. Everything about her screamed Other, and Sookie had been around Supes long enough to know that this Supe was the mother of all Supes.

       “Eric, what is she?” she whispered hoarsely, afraid someone might hear her.

       “She was once one of the Greek Pantheon,” he replied equally as quietly.

       “Greek Pantheon?” she repeated.

       “You know, Zeus, Hera and all them. The mythology had them living on Olympus, but they never actually did.”

       She gasped. “You… you’re talking about gods.”

       “Yes.”

       “Elena’s a goddess?”

       He nodded. “One of the Moon Goddesses. As gods go she was a very minor one, but it was her obscurity that allowed her to survive. Most of the others have faded away to almost nothing.”

       “Why?”

       “No one to worship or believe in them. Without believers, gods die. Elena endured because she never had much power to begin with,” Eric explained.

       “Oh.” A goddess. Elena was a goddess. Jesus Christ, Shepherd of Judea, what was going to happen now?

       Elena took the stage and stood behind the microphone, waiting for the crowd to notice her. The room was silent in less than a minute. She stood there like a statue, perfectly poised and collected, scanning the audience. Her dark eyes fell on her and Eric, and Sookie ducked her head, shivering. Eric tucked her in closer to his body, but the goddess’s eyes slid over them, paying them no more mind than a butterfly would pay to an ant. When Elena’s gaze moved on, Sookie relaxed.

       “Welcome, my friends,” the goddess spoke, and her voice was like cool water, soft and soothing. “We have been blessed all week with the presence of a rare guest who has graciously shared her talent with us. Tonight is her last performance for she and her family will be leaving us on Tuesday.”

       The crowd let out a collective murmur of sadness and dismay.

       “We are grateful that she and her family have spent so much time with us here on our island, and we are sorry to see them leave. But we do hope she that will return to enjoy our hospitality and share her gifts with us once again.

       “Please welcome, Maria Piazzi.”

       The audience erupted into applause as the Gypsy woman took the stage, coming to stand next to Elena. The two shared many attributes: the same hair – although Elena’s was considerably longer – the same basic coloring, and the same serene expression in their dark eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Maria looked tiny and fragile next to the statuesque beauty of the goddess, dwarfed by the presence of a figure much larger than life, but she didn’t seem diminished by the difference. She bowed to Elena and nodded her head to the crowd.

       “Thank you, my generous hostess,” she said into the mike, addressing both Elena and the audience. “I and my family have enjoyed our stay here, and we are very sorry to leave ourselves. I assure you that we have every intention of returning as soon as our lives permit.”

       The crowd let out a happy cheer. Maria smiled, and she was all the more lovely for it. Her eyes scanned the crowd, taking in all of the guests watching her with rapt fascination.

       “I am happy to see so many faces; those I have come to know during my stay here and those I have yet to meet. I bid you welcome and good fortune. I have been told that my music is soothing, and I am glad to share it with you. I hope that each of you will find what you need when I play, and that you will leave here with a sense of peace and comfort.”

       She bowed to the crowd, bowed to Elena, then stepped back to pick-up the violin case and open it. Elena left the stage as Maria sat down on a chair that had been set there for her, and the crowd grew silent and still as the human woman raised the instrument to her chin.

       Sookie was no connoisseur of Classical music, but she did recognize the first piece Maria played. It was  _Air on the G-String_  and she thought Bach had written it. The music filled the room, capturing everyone with its simple beauty. Sookie glanced at the area to the left of the stage and noticed both Izzy and Vincent sitting in the wings, both were watching Maria play with twin expressions of pride and satisfaction on their faces.

       She wasn’t certain what she had been expecting, but other than enjoying the music, she didn’t feel any different. Eric was motionless, not even breathing, his eyes fixed on the Gypsy, his attention completely taken up by the woman on the stage. She didn’t get it.

       Maria finished the first piece, and Sookie had to admit that as violinists went – not that she’d heard many of them and most of the ones she had heard played Cajun music – she was very, very good. The kind of good that played with an orchestra and did all those fancy symphonies in big cities like New York and Los Angeles. She’d never been to either of them. She’d never been to the symphony either.

       When Maria started the second piece, Sookie relaxed. Nothing was happening, no big mojo magic, no soul altering, life changing experience, so she settled down to enjoy the show and hoped that Eric wouldn’t be too disappointed. How little did she know that Maria was just getting warmed up.

       She began noticing something odd going on about the middle of the third piece. She had no idea what Maria was playing, but it was in keeping with the soothing, gentle theme she’d been going with since she’d started. The music was… coming into her. She felt little tendrils of it poking around, making gooseflesh break out along her skin, and then it was sliding along her arms, running just under the surface. She froze, her eyes wide, and for a moment she thought she might bolt, but then something grabbed her from the inside out and held her there.

       She gasped as the music began to vibrate inside her body, sending tremors and shivers throughout her muscles, and moving into her blood. Her heart was pounding. She looked at Eric and found him still and hard as stone. It had gotten him too. She was on the verge of panic, fighting and fighting hard against what was happening…

       Suddenly, she calmed down and all her fear disappeared. Was it Eric? Was it the music? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she wasn’t afraid anymore, and her heart slowed down to normal and her body relaxed. Then the fourth piece began and she was soaring.

       The music had her, it was cradling her, bringing her to a place of peace and comfort she hadn’t known since her parents were alive. It was wrapping around her heart and soul, finding the dark, wounded places and exposing them to the light. She felt raw, ripped open, and she began to cry. She looked at Eric and saw that he was crying too, red streaks staining his white skin as the tears ran down his face. She reached out to him, fumbling for the hand he had placed on the table – the other was still around her shoulders, but it was a dead weight – and managed to grab hold of his fingers.

       The bond opened and they were one again, like they had been at dinner. Everything he was feeling, everything he was experiencing, came into her, and she into him. It doubled the effect of the music, and she found herself caught in the rising tide.

        _‘Let go,’_  came the gentle command, but she didn’t know who had said it or where it had come from.

_‘Let go.’_

       She resisted, holding desperately onto the last vestiges of her sanity, but then  ** _Eric_**  let go, and she was swept out to sea with him.

       How much time passed, she wasn’t sure, because minor things like that had lost all of their meaning. There was only the music and Eric, and the two of them in the bond, showing each other their wounds and sharing their pain. The music found everything, every blight, every scar, every still-open wound, and seared it with Power, purging it, sealing it, making it whole again.

       When it finally began to release them, she felt as if it was putting her back into a new body that had just shed its skin. She shivered, and then felt Eric move. He was back, too, and their eyes met. She was sure they both looked the same way: stunned and shaken, and he gripped her hand tightly, holding on for dear life as they stared at each other, emotions swirling across the bond in a seamless stream. She had no idea who was who anymore.

       The music was changing, taking on a faster tempo, the healing fading and being replaced by a joyous frenzy. She looked at the stage to see Izzy and Vincent joining Maria. Vincent had his violin out already, and the child was starting to play. He was good too, for a little kid, and he took the seat to the right of his mother.

       But she and Eric had no interest in the dance that was beginning to develop. Each of them was far more interested in a different dance, one that required privacy. She had no memory of him slipping on her coat, or picking her up to carry her out of the great room. She had a brief memory of the frigid cold, broken by the encompassing warmth of a fire burning in the hearth of their cabin when Eric opened the door. How had it gotten lit? And who had known to light it? Such questions could be answered later.

       Eric laid her on the floor in front of the fire, and they began to dance. It was the dance of kisses and shedding clothes, perfectly choreographed and set to music only they could hear. Bare skin slid across bare skin, moans escaped dry mouths, creating their own symphony just for the two of them. They licked each other’s tears away; she tasted his blood on her tongue and swallowed. His fingers stroked and teased and prepared, and she gave herself over eagerly, wanting him, her soul singing in tune with his.

       When he finally entered her, it was like he was coming home.

       He moved inside her, filling her with himself as she filled him, rocking each other in perfect rhythm and ecstasy. Hands gripped and bodies merged, words of love and comfort spilled from their lips, and in their joining, complete, sublime, and sacred, they healed each other.


	7. Chapter Seven

_Chapter Seven_

       Sookie sighed and let herself drift on a soft wave of contentment. She had her head nestled against Eric’s chest, her arm stretched across his broad pects, and he was absently playing with a lock of her hair, twirling it around his fingers.

       They were upstairs in the loft bedroom, nestled in the huge, king-size bed they’d fallen into after Eric had carried her up the stairs. They’d had sex again on the broad mattress, Eric hooking his arms under her knees to lift her hips as he rode her. He’d plunged deep, and ridden her hard, both of them hungry for more after so long without. But for all his urgency and passion, he still hadn’t been as rough with her as she had expected him to be after almost a month of abstinence. Bill had practically broken her pelvis that night after the football game, but no matter how frenzied Eric seemed to be, he never hurt her with his strength or bit down too hard when he sank his fangs into her. She knew she’d be sore in the morning, but she doubted that she’d be sporting any bruises.

       Now that they were sated – for the moment – she could feel the stirrings of malcontent coming across the bond, and she lifted her chin to look at him. There was a serious, unhappy look on her Viking’s face.

       “What is it?” she asked.

       “I am disappointed in myself,” he admitted. “I had promised myself that we wouldn’t do this until we’d reached an agreement, but it seems I have no control when you are involved.”

       “Oh yes, I seduced you, poor innocent, with my fairy wiles,” she teased.

       He snorted. “If you keep believing your fairy blood is what makes me so attracted to you, I’ll be forced to do something drastic.”

       “Like what?”

       “Like dumping you, naked, into the lake if you don’t cut that bullshit out.”

       “You wouldn’t,” she choked.

       “Try me. I’m sick of hearing it.”

       “But…”

       “No buts. The only but I want to hear is you talking about  _my_  butt since you’re so fond of it.”

       She snickered. “It is still as impressive as I remember it,” she confirmed. “So much better in real-life than in that calendar you gave me. I never took it off January, you know.”

       “We’re going to do another for next year. Shall I make my photo a rear view just for your viewing pleasure?”

       “You would too.”

       “Of course. Anything for you, my lover,” he replied immediately.

       “Would you really put a mirror over your bed so I could watch you?”

       “I’d panel my entire bedroom with mirrors so you could see me from every angle you desired if that is what you wanted,” he answered with complete sincerity.

       “That’s… kinky.”

       “I admit to there being some allure to being able to watch you watching me while we have sex.”

       “That’s even more kinky.”

       “But a powerful turn-on.”

       She thought about that and had to agree. In fact, the idea of being able to see Eric’s gorgeous ass as he… Mmmm, definite possibilities there. She snuggled closer and let her hand drift southward. She heard Eric moan as her fingers brushed against his hardness. He was ready again, and she was shocked to find that she was just as eager. Maybe there was hope of her being able to keep up with him after all.

       Things were just starting to get interesting when Eric’s hand gripped her wrist and gently, but firmly, pulled her hand away.

       “No,” he said, then added more forcefully, “No. I have had you twice. I hope to have you again many, many times while we are here, and again after we have returned to Louisiana, but right now we must talk.”

       She sighed and pouted. She was not looking forward to this at all. “Must we?”

       “Yes.” His voice was steel and about as malleable.

       She rolled to her back and crossed her arms over her chest, frowning at the ceiling.

       “I don’t know why we have to. Can’t we just leave it like this between us? This is fun. This is uncomplicated. Anything we decide will be complicated and messy.”

       “It will be complicated and messy regardless, but we can simplify things if we make some decisions now.”

       “Like what?”

       “First things first. Am I correct in assuming that you are no longer seeing the tiger?” he asked.

       “Yes. We broke up.” The words stung but they were true. As much as she’d hated to do it, she had let Quinn go. What he had done had been too close to a betrayal on his part, and he would always be beholden to his mother and sister. She wanted to be first for once, and she knew Quinn would never be able to give her that. She wasn’t so sure Eric could either.

       “Are there any other suitors courting your attentions?”

       “Other than Bill and Sam? No,” she answered.

       She knew Bill would jump at the chance to get back with her, and he’d said as much. Sam, on the other hand… she knew he liked her, but half of his interest stemmed from his desire to keep her away from vampires. Calvin and Alcide had both been in the running, but Calvin’s idea of monogamy didn’t mesh with hers, and she’d had enough of were-panther politics to last her a lifetime. Alcide… he’d missed his chance, twice.

       “Do either of them have any chance of winning you?”

       “Bill? None. Sam? I believe in not dating your boss.”

       He nodded. “Very well. Sookie Stackhouse, will you be my woman?”

       Well, he couldn’t have made it any plainer, could he?

       Her answer caught in her throat. If she said no, then nothing would be the same between them. If she said yes, nothing would be the same between them. The difference was in what she wanted from him. If she wanted to sever her connections with vampires, then she should say no and swear off dead guys for good. She would also have to leave her job, her friends, her home and everything she knew because she had no illusions that the vampire community in Louisiana would let her go. She was far too valuable to them to allow her to live in peace. She would have to get out of Bon Temps and relocate somewhere far away from any vampire that might recognize her.

       On the other hand, if she said yes, then she would be under Eric’s protection and no other vampire could touch her because she’d be his. According to vamp protocol, that meant she was off limits to any other vampires unless she severed her tie to Eric herself or he “passed her on” to another vamp – she’d stake him before she’d let him do that to her, and he damn well knew it.

       Saying yes would mean she could stay in Bon Temps and continue living life as she knew it, but it would also mean she would become even further entrenched in the vampire world with all its crazy politics and power struggles. She could be used against Eric in order to get him to do things he might not want to do, and Eric could be used against her in the same way – although Eric really could take care of himself; she’d seen that numerous times. A vampire didn’t get to be a thousand years old by being slow and stupid. She was much less concerned about Eric’s safety than she ever was about Bill’s.

       She supposed she could opt for Door #3 which was say no, but stay in Bon Temps and do the whole awkward “ex” thing every time a new man came into her life. But that would be problematic because her blood-bond with Eric was permanent now, and she would always be privy to his feelings as much as he would be privy to hers. Plus, she doubted that he’d ever give up if she refused him, then stayed where he could continue to woo her until she broke down.

       So it all came down to what she wanted. She liked Eric – could probably love him if she gave herself half a chance. She liked her life, and she wouldn’t want to give it all up. And the sex was out of this world. When she thought about it, he really had been there for her, and he’d shown her more consideration and respect than any other vampire she knew. Pairing with him would be much more like a meeting of equals, and hadn’t he already proved his willingness to commit? If being celibate for nearly a month hadn’t shown her he was serious, nothing else would.

       She was taking too long and she knew it. Eric was getting agitated by her silence, and she didn’t like the jumble of feelings coming across the bond. “Masks-off” Eric was a lot like the Eric he had been when he didn’t know who he was, and he needed reassurance from her that everything was all right.

       “I’m going to answer,” she told him. “Just give me a minute.”

       “If you have to think about it, you probably don’t know.” His voice was sad and resigned.

       “No. It’s not that. It’s just… a lot to deal with. No matter what choice I make here, my life’s never gonna be the same.”

       “Tell me this: if I hadn’t forgotten our time together, what were you planning on doing once the witch’s curse was broken?”

       “To be honest, I figured you’d want to forget the whole thing. Well, maybe not the sex, and I figured you’d try to get me back into bed, but I doubted you’d be happy about the rest of it. And then after I’d killed Debbie Pelt, I was worried you wouldn’t like being beholden to me, and I was afraid of the power you’d have over me.

       “I know you think I held my feelings inside because I was letting you go, but don’t make me out to be martyr. Most of why I didn’t tell you was because I didn’t want to get dragged into anything about Debbie Pelt or the leverage you’d have on me if I did.”

       “You were afraid I would renege on my promises to bring you to me. You thought I would lose affection for you and treat you like one of the numerous, brief associations I have had with willing female donors,” he stated, his voice cold.

       “Something like that. It would have been consistent with what I knew of you.”

       He snorted and gave a self-depreciating laugh. She didn’t like it.

       “You know nothing. You know nothing of my feelings and desires. I was ridiculously happy when I was with you. I would give anything to be that happy again.”

       She swallowed, allowing herself to feel a little pang of regret.

       “You said I made you very happy too,” he reminded.

       “You did. You were sweet, and talked to me, and put me first. I liked that.”

       “You loved me.”

       “No.”

       “You could have.”

       “Yes, probably,” she admitted.

       “Are things so different now?”

       “Of course they are. You remember who you are. You’re the Sheriff of Area 5, big boss vampire, and budding tycoon.”

       “Do you wish for me to give it up? Leave it all and come live with you?” he asked suddenly.

       “What? No! No, absolutely not. You like what you do. You’ve worked hard to get where you are. I’d never ask you to leave everything you’ve built just to come live with me.”

       “But I am not happy. I would leave everything and stay with you if that is what it would take for you to accept me.”

       “You were happy enough before you met me, and you told me you picked up the reins with no problems after Hallow’s curse was broken,” she shot back, afraid that he  ** _would_**  give up everything for her. He might forgive her for asking it of him, but she’d never forgive herself.

       “True enough, but that was before I knew what I had lost. And I was not happy. I was content. You made me happy. But it would not make you happy if I were to give up my position and come live with you. I can feel that.”

       “No. I’d feel guilty and afraid that you’d resent me for making you give it all up.”

       “Will you leave your job and come live with me?”

       “No.”

       He didn’t seem to be surprised or upset by her answer.

       “Then we have our beginning, our base position. To be honest, you haven’t told me anything I was not expecting you to say. You will not leave your work, and you do not want me to leave mine, even though I would.”

       “I can’t believe you’d walk away from Fangtasia and everything you’ve built just to date a barmaid,” she stated.

       “Sookie, I have lived a very long time. I have had everything and lost everything. There have been times when I all have done is escape with the clothes on my back and my life,” he told her in a gentle voice that was only slightly a rebuke. “If I were to leave Fangtasia and Shreveport, I would rebuild wherever we were. We would probably have to move out of Felipe de Castro’s territory. He would never believe I wasn’t plotting against him, and he knows of your talent. He would seek to use you to his benefit, and I would no longer be in any position of power to protect you. Staying in Louisiana would be very dangerous for both of us.”

       “I don’t want to leave Bon Temps. I don’t want to leave Gran’s house. Or my job.”

       He nodded that he understood. “So we have reached our second base position. You do not wish to relocate, therefore I must stay in my position in order to ensure your safety.”

       “This sounds like a negotiation.”

       “It is. But you still haven’t answered the primary question. Will you be my woman?”

       The $50,000 question.

       She rolled to her side, lifted herself up on one elbow, and looked at him,  _really_  looked at him. He was gorgeous, a god among men and probably always had been. He looked at her with his blue eyes, his face unreadable, and she reached out to finger a lock of his long hair.

       “Could you put me first?” she asked.

       “Haven’t I already?”

       In his own way, he had, hadn’t he? He’d followed her to Dallas, and to Jackson. He’d given her things she needed, things that mattered. He’d thrown himself in front of bullets and stood by her when she was holding a bomb. He’d all but challenged Andre and stood up for her when she had to face the Ancient Pythoness during Sophie-Anne’s trial. He’d fought his own daytime stupor to make sure she didn’t fall to her death escaping the bombed hotel in Rhodes.

       Over and over again, he’d used his body and his position to protect her. Hell, he’d even agreed to go to an orgy with her, knowing full well that she wasn’t interested in sex with him (at that time,) so she could flush out a killer. And every time she’d needed him, he’d come through for her. That was more than she could say for Bill, or Quinn, or Sam or Jason – definitely Jason. The only person who had done more for her had been Gran.

       She pursed her lips and prayed she wasn’t making a huge mistake. “Alright then. Yes, I’ll be your woman,  ** _but_**  I am still my own woman. I don’t belong to you. Understand?”

       He grinned and she felt the pure joy coming across the bond. She’d be lying of the strength of it hadn’t frightened her, but she had to admit that agreeing made her happy too.

       “Don’t be afraid, my lover – for that is now what you are officially – we have come to our first agreement.”

       “Great. Are we done talking now?” she asked hopefully.

       “Not even close. Now we must set the conditions of our relationship.”

       “The conditions of our relationship?” she repeated, not liking the sound of that at all.

       “Yes. I am assuming that you will not want me to feed on anyone else, and you definitely don’t want me having sex with anyone else. So we must decide on when we will see each other because going nearly a month without sex was very hard for me.”

       She smirked. “I bet it was.”

       “You have no idea,” he admitted with a suffering sigh.

       She actually smiled and he smiled back. He was still sending joy across the bond and that was lightening her mood.

       “Okay so, what? Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, I drive up to Shreveport? You come down on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and we trade off weekends, or what?” she said, only half-joking.

       He laughed. “I was thinking more along the lines of I drive down on the nights you work, and you come to me on the days you work the lunch shift. On our days off, we’ll compromise on where we will be, and I am sure there will be nights when our schedules and workloads keep us from seeing each other. Regardless, I think I should do the majority of the driving because I have the better car. Although I would be happy to buy you a better one…”

       “No,” she refused immediately, even though a tiny part of her longed for a brand new car with working air conditioning and less than 100,000 miles on the engine. Preferably one that hadn’t been used to run over a vampire. She knew Dawson had done an excellent job fixing the car, but she still had nightmares of parts of Sigebert coming out to get her.

       He sighed. “Yes, of course, you don’t want to be a “kept woman.” I am well aware of that, but, my lover, you cannot expect me to ignore your need.”

       “I’ve never taken anything that I haven’t earned, and I’m not about to start now.”

       It looked like he would say more, but he brushed it aside and got back on point. “We will negotiate that later, but for now we are setting ground rules. What do you think of my suggestion?”

       “You’d come to me after Fangtasia closed on the nights I work?”

       “Yes.”

       “So you’d get to my house about 3am?”

       “Something like that.”

       “Doesn’t give us much time, does it?”

       “I could stay until dawn, sleep in your “hidey hole” as you call it, and leave for Shreveport when I rose. Pam is perfectly capable of opening the bar and running things until I get there,” he answered reasonably.

       “And I’d drive to you on the days I worked lunch, and do what? Hang out at Fangtasia until closing?”

       “If you wanted. You could sit by my side when I am out front, or be with me in my office, or wait for me at my house – I’d give you a key.”

       “And I’d stay overnight at your place?”

       He nodded.

       “What about days off?”

       “If I wasn’t already at your house, I’d spend the day in my place near Bon Temps and join you as soon as I woke.”

       “You’ve given this a lot of thought,” she said, creasing her brow.

       “I have. I’ve tried to anticipate everything that would concern you and offer solutions. How am I doing?”

       “I’m impressed.”

       He smiled again. “Thank you. Do you have any counterproposals?”

       She rolled her eyes. “You’re making this sound like business transaction, Eric. Whatever happened to just showing up out of the blue with a dozen roses and a box of candy?”

       “Well, of course, I’ll do that too. I reserve the right to surprise you, and to sweep you off your feet and whisk you away for a weekend.”

       “To where?”

       “Well… anywhere. Wherever you want to go.”

       “Sam would just love that,” she said, rolling her eyes.

       “I admit to some… apprehension with you continuing to work for the shifter…” He caught her unhappy look and quickly added, “But I trust you, and I know you will do the right thing if he makes you uncomfortable.”

       “He’ll try to get me to break up with you.”

       “Will he be successful?”

       “Doubt it.”

       “That’s good to hear.”

       “I’m just as… apprehensive about you sitting out in Fangtasia with all those fangbangers drooling over you,” she said, picking at a piece of lint on the bedcovers.

       “That might be a problem. There are a number of customers who come solely to court my favor. They will be unhappy when I refuse them. That is why I wish for you to sit by me on a regular basis, so they will see you and know I have chosen you as my companion.”

       “Oh great. Why don’t you just paint a big target on my forehead? I’ll be getting death threats from all the jealous whackos who think getting rid of me will improve their chances with you,” she complained.

       “Anyone who threatens you will be dealt with swiftly.”

       That made her shiver and not in a good way because she knew he was deadly serious.

       “Okay, okay. You’re willing to make all these concessions for me, so I’ll make a few for you. If a fangbanger who only wants you comes into the bar, it’s… it’s okay for you to bite her… or him.”

       She couldn’t believe she’d just said that.

       “Really?” he asked, both eyebrows raised.

       Apparently, he couldn’t either.

       She took a deep breath and nodded. “If… if I’m not there, and you know it’ll be trouble if you say no, then I’m… I’m okay with it. I’m not happy about it, but I’ll live with it. Besides, you told me Pam said you were being bad for business.”

       “That’s only because I was making a habit of kicking them away,” he grudgingly admitted. “But if I am seeing you regularly, I will have no need to vent my frustration out on the customers.”

       “Well, you probably will have to kick a few of them just to keep up appearances.”

       “Yes, but that will be for entertainment and not for anger,” he pointed-out.

       She shook her head and laughed, then grew serious again. “No sex though. I’m the only one, got it?”

       “Of course. Haven’t I already proven my fidelity?”

       “Well, yeah, but I know you. If temptation comes through the door dressed in red latex and heels, and she throws herself at your feet, you’re gonna say no and send her packing, right?”

       “You are a hard-hearted woman,” he replied with a frown, but his eyes were laughing.

       “You’re damn right I am.”

       “Oh, I know. I took a bullet in the neck for you, and when I asked for surcease from my pain, you sent me away.”

       She winced. “Okay, you’re right. That wasn’t very fair of me; it was downright rude and awful actually, but I knew if I didn’t send you away, I wouldn’t have let you leave.”

       “Really?”

       “Really,” she confirmed.

       “Humph. I thought so. I should have pushed harder that night. I had a feeling you were on the edge,” he admitted with a smug little smile on his lips. He was looking far too pleased with himself, but then he looked at her and his expression softened. “But I am glad I didn’t. I’m glad we waited. If you had yielded to me then, it would have been before I’d remembered our time together, and we would not be here now, having this conversation.”

       “There’s no telling that you wouldn’t have remembered in the… middle of things,” she said.

       “I’d be lying if I said that possibility hadn’t crossed my mind. But then I was also sure I would remember after we shared blood again in Rhodes,” he said, creasing his brow. “But I didn’t, not really. I guess though, that’s when I began to feel… differently. And I did start to get bits and pieces back, just little flashes of memory. They started after that night, and I had more while I was… healing.”

       “Pam would call me and give me an update on how you were doing. She said your face was burned, but not as badly as Bill’s,” she murmured.

       His face grew dark and serious. “Yes. I was… we were very lucky. The queen…”

       “She wasn’t as lucky.” Sophie-Anne had lost her legs. In the end, she’d lost a lot more than that. Sookie hated the Nevada vamps for taking over when Sophie was incapacitated, and then killing her and Sigebert. Felipe de Castro had thrown her whole world into chaos,  ** _and_**  cost her a boyfriend, but… maybe her and Quinn weren’t meant for each other anyway. The universe certainly seemed to be against them from the beginning.

       For the first time, she saw the grief of loss on Eric’s face, and it brought her out of her woolgathering and back to the present.

       “No, she wasn’t,” he whispered. “Rhodes changed everything. Mr. Cataliades told us all about how you and Barry tried to warn everyone, and how you tried to get as many people out as you could. I still can’t believe you came for me and Pam. I would have let me die.”

       “I would never have done that. No matter what was between us, Eric, I didn’t want you dead.”

       “You came for me, first of all.” He closed his eyes, his brow creased with remembered pain. “I remember your scream. That’s what woke me. You were yelling at me, and slapping me, but I only dimly remember that. Then you screamed and I felt your terror. That galvanized me into action more than anything else. The hotel was blowing up all around us, and you were there, insisting I get Pam into the coffin, helping me break the glass…”

       She felt him shudder, and she reached out to put her hand on his chest in comfort. His large hand closed over hers and held it tight.

       “When I woke in the sanctuary we were taken to, I thought it had been a horrible nightmare at first, then I saw my face and I knew I hadn’t dreamed it. My first thought was to find you. I had to make sure you were all right. I was trying to get up, to get out and look for you, but Mr. Cataliades stopped me. He told us all that you were safe and heading back to Bon Temps. Knowing you were safe was the only thing that kept me there, and allowed me to rest while I healed. I’d listen in on your conversations with Pam, you know.”

       She wasn’t surprised, but Pam had kept that little detail to herself. She wasn’t surprised about that either.

       “I couldn’t speak at first. The sun had burned my lips and throat, but I would lay there, listening to your voice. Pam would sit close-by so I could hear better. Knowing you were alive and well brought me comfort.”

       “But you knew I was okay, didn’t you? I mean, you’d feel if I was hurting, right?”

       “Oh yes. I knew you were fine physically. But I had no idea how you were emotionally. I knew I was shaken, and it takes a lot to shake me, so I couldn’t imagine how you were handling everything. You felt like you were dealing, but I was so injured and jumbled myself, it was hard for me to tell.”

       “You know I would have come to see you while you were healing, but I had no idea where they’d taken you,” she told him, moving closer. Talking about Rhodes always made her feel vulnerable.

       “It was best for you to stay away. Healing vampires are hungry vampires. It would not have been safe for you to be there, although I would have been heartened to see you,” he answered.

       “I figured as much.”

       “Yes.”

       She lowered herself down to rest against him again, her head on his chest, and placed her arm across his body. She felt him slide his arm around her and pull her close.

       “Are we done talking?” she asked.

       She was starting to feel the effects of over work, little sleep, air travel, stress and great sex.

       “I’m not sure. Have we reached our agreement?” he answered, his voice slightly amused.

       “You tell me.”

       “Well, if I am correct, we agreed that, yes, you would be my woman,” he stated, sounding very pleased. She could feel the satisfaction coming across the bond.

       “Then we agreed that, schedules permitting, I would come to you on the days you work nights, and you would come to me on the days you work afternoons, and we would decide our days off on a day-to-day basis. On nights you come to me, you’ll stay overnight at my house, and I’ll stay with you on the nights I come to you. How am I doing so far?”

       “Doing great.”

       “All right. Then we discussed fidelity. I offered it unconditionally, and you offered me the option of biting certain fangbangers who come to the bar solely for me. I reserve the right to refuse them if I so choose, but I will stop kicking them in the head. However if “temptation comes into the bar dressed in red latex and heels,” I am to kick her to the curb immediately. Right?”

       “Right.”

       He chuckled. “As if anyone could be as tempting as you, my lover.”

       “Claudine,” she stated.

       “Claudine is a full-blooded fairy. If she wants to live, she’d do well to stay away from us.”

       He was serious.

       “True, but she’d more alluring than I am,” she commented.

       “No, she’s not. If she had been, then I would have walked right through you that night at the bar. Instead I let you hold me back with your hand. Then when we returned to your home, I attempted to show you with words and deeds how alluring you were to me,” he told her, his voice edged with impatience, and she could feel the icy waters of Lake Superior already. She shivered.

       “Did you really mean all those things you said?” she asked, diverting him from his irritation.

       “Which ones? That you are beautiful and smart? That you have a sense of fun and adventure? That you’re brave, responsible, and hard working? That you have the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen?”

       She gulped. “Yeah. Bill thought I had beautiful breasts too,” she said with a hint of bitterness.

       “Hmm. One thing we can agree on,” he commented, reaching one hand up to cup one of her breasts lightly, his thumb absently teasing the nipple.

       She loved the gentle touch, but thinking of Bill had reminded her of something; something she wanted to get settled between them since it was the night for honesty and compromise. “Eric…”

       “Yes, my lover?”

       “I… I know Pam told me that you didn’t know about Bill’s… real reason for coming back to Bon Temps…” she stammered, feeling stressed and insecure.

       She saw him scowl and his face grow hard. He stopped playing with her nipple, but the arm around her tightened and pressed her closer.

       “But… Would you have told me? If you’d known?”

       The look on his face was almost comical in its indecision. She’d never seen Eric bite his lip like that before.

       “The queen… she would have forbidden it. It would have interfered with her plans. If I’d told you, and she’d discovered my… indiscretion, she would have punished me. But… I… would have tried to warn you without outright telling you. I think she knew that. I think she knew I would try to warn you, and that was why she didn’t tell me. She once accused me of treating my subordinates too fairly.”

       As if  _that_  was such a bad thing. After what she had witnessed in her dealings with vampire head honchos – the “kings” and “queens” especially – she could see that it was.

       “Okay. Thank you for being honest with me.” In truth his answer had reassured her more than anything. He would have defied his queen for her, and that was no small admission.

       “After I found out about what Bill had done, I was furious,” he went on. “I can admit now that I followed you to New Orleans because I knew there was a good possibility you’d find out the truth, and I wanted to be there to gloat over Bill’s discomfort – or so I told myself. But then you were bitten by the new vamp, and I raced to the hospital to see for myself that you were alright. I couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt, but I didn’t know why. Then I hurt you even more by forcing Bill to tell you the truth.”

       He stopped and looked at her, begging her to understand. “I had to do that, Sookie. It was wrong of him to have deceived you like that. I know it hurt you terribly, but…”

       She placed a hand on his lips. “No. I agree. It was better for me to know. You did the right thing, even though it hurt.”

       He nodded and she removed her hand. “I wanted to comfort you even then, but I knew you wouldn’t accept me. And I was also too angry with Bill and the queen for using you like that.”

       “I wasn’t in any mood to be comforted by a vampire anyway,” she assured him.

       “I could feel that. That’s why I stayed away. But I was thinking of you.”

       “That was probably the best thing you could have done. I needed my space that night.”

       “And of course, me not remembering our time together made you feel as if you couldn’t turn to me. Again, I’m sorry,” he said with regret.

       “It’s okay, really.”

       He frowned. “Not really. You cried yourself to sleep. I felt it.”

       Turning his head, he cupped his hand under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. His blue eyes were intense, and she felt laid bare by the raw emotion in them.

       “Sookie… you say you want me to put you first. Well, the same holds true for me.  ** _I_**  want to be first in your life. That means I want you to reach out to me. I want to be the first person you call when you need help. If something happens in your life, I want to hear it directly from you, not through gossip at the bar. That is what blood-bondeds do. They turn to each other first. Understand?”

       She nodded. “I understand.”

       “Good. You are my woman. If I hadn’t already pledged my life for you at Felipe’s request, I would have done so by now on my own. I will never let anything hurt you, Sookie. Ever.”

       She teared up and pulled her chin out of his grasp so she could tuck her face into the crook of his arm. Vampires didn’t have B.O. so there was no need for her to be worried about his underarm or his lack of deodorant. His hand stroked her hair.

       “Thank you,” she mumbled.

       His fingers stroked the line of her jaw, and she glanced up to see him giving her a heated look. She reached for what he was offering and grabbed it with both hands.

       The third time was slow, reverent even, and he took his time with her, kissing and tasting every inch of her skin. Then he rested on his back and positioned her atop him, sliding her onto his erection until she’d taken all of it. They enjoyed each other that way for a short time, before he cupped her underneath her back and bottom and flipped them both over in a smooth move that didn’t even jostle him inside her.

       His tongue slid into her mouth and mimicked what was going on between her legs. She moaned and whimpered, sliding her hands down to cup his gorgeous butt and pull him even closer. He groaned and thrust harder, his hips moving from side to side a little as he searched for the spot within her that would bring her maximum pleasure.

       When he found it, she gasped and her body involuntarily convulsed. He pulled back to rest on his elbows, looking down at her as he hit the spot again.

       “Look at me,” he ordered gently, and she obeyed, focusing on the Norse God riding her, claiming her as thoroughly and completely as any man.

       He struck her spot a third time and she felt the wave of pleasure building.

       “Eric…”

       “Thank you. Thank you for being my woman. Now I will do this to you almost every night. I will know your body in every way possible, and I will bring you as much pleasure as you bring me,” he told her, his voice rough with passion, his rhythm never faltering.

       Her answer was a strangled groan because the bond had opened fully again, and she was feeling everything he was experiencing as surely as he was experiencing her. Her eyes opened wide as she gripped his arms and arched her back, sending him even deeper. She was still staring directly into his eyes when he hit her spot again and sent her soaring over the edge. Her climax triggered his, and she watched as he threw his head back and roared.

       In the aftermath he kissed her, feather light kisses on her face and eyelids as she struggled to get her heart and breathing under control. Murmured compliments and expressions of gratitude spilled from his lips as she drifted on an ocean of contentment, her body lax and tingling with remembered pleasure. Exhaustion really started to set in, and she was too tired to go to the bathroom for a post-coital wash, so he licked her clean, bringing her to another climax that was all the more profound in its gentleness.

       She passed out shortly thereafter; her last conscious memory being his arms sliding around her, cradling her as he snuggled them both under the blankets. His lips kissed her temple, and she fell asleep feeling safe and cherished and loved.


	8. Chapter Eight

_Chapter Eight_

 

 

       When she woke it was well after noon, and she found herself all tucked into the soft Veluxe blankets and white eiderdown. A dozen beautiful, deeply fragrant, red roses were on the bedside table along with a small box of very expensive-looking chocolates. With them was a card that said: “The first of many, my lover. Enjoy your day.” It was signed simply “E” as was his custom.

       She lifted herself up on one elbow to smell the roses and peel open the box of chocolates. They were very, very good, but they weren’t decent nutrition, and Eric had told her to go to the lodge for breakfast when she got hungry. Or lunch, considering the time. She noticed that Eric had been considerate and practical in addition to his romantic gesture, and had draped her blue satin robe at the foot of the bed. Putting it on, she slipped out of bed and went over to the closed curtains, drawing them back to reveal a set of sliding glass doors that opened onto a balcony. Sunlight poured into the room, and she got her first look at Isle Elena.

       Eric had been right when he’d said that their cabin had a view of the lake, and she was gifted with a spectacular view of Lake Superior sparkling in the sunlight. Looking to either side of their cabin, she saw tall trees and the suggestions of other cabins not far from theirs, but hidden in the woods. Directly in front of their cabin, she saw paths that led off to the right, and she could make out the roofline of the lodge jutting out above the forest. Since it seemed to be closer to the shoreline, she could only guess that it was on the lakeshore itself.

       Closing the curtains again, she went to the bathroom that was attached to their loft bedroom. It, too, had a window, but it looked out onto heavy forest. The shower was a huge dual head one that was almost sinful, and she made plans to recreate it in her own bathroom should she ever have the money to remodel. She frowned. She’d never be able to afford it on her salary.

        _‘Bet Eric would pay for it in a heartbeat,’_  a little voice said.  _‘He might even consider it a necessity since you know how much he likes showering with you…’_

       She choked it before it could say anything else. She remembered her shower with Eric very well thankyouverymuch.

       Noting that someone – hopefully Eric – had put away her clothes in the loft’s dresser and closet, she dressed in one of the new sweaters Eric had given her and her warmest pair of jeans. She even put on the new boots, then she headed down the stairs to inspect the cabin. She admitted to not being terribly interested in the accommodations last night. Eric’s tongue being down her throat might have had something to do with it. Their discarded clothes were still strewn on the living room floor, and she picked them up as she passed them by and put them on the stairs leading up to the loft.

       In keeping with the theme of warm neutrals, the cabin was decorated in shades of cream, brown, yellow and blue. The exterior walls were logs, stained a warm, rich honey color, and the ceiling of the loft was the exposed beams, also stained the same honey color. The interior walls were drywall, painted a light cream, and the furniture reflected the theme.

       On the first floor of the cabin, she found a small living room, dining room and kitchen. The hearth separated the living room from the dining room and kitchen areas, the wide stone chimney serving as a central focal point of the small space. The kitchen and dining room were next to each other and connected by a doorway, and there was another bathroom off the kitchen, adjacent to a back door which led to a small, screened-in porch with a built-in breakfast nook table and bench set.

       At the rear of the dining room was a closed door, and she opened it to find a small bedroom with a double bed. The room had no windows and her vampire Viking was sprawled on the bed, covered by a thin blanket draped over his legs and hips. He was naked from the waist up, and she imagined that he was probably naked under the blanket too. She didn’t bother to peek as she went over to him and gave him a kiss on the temple. He barely moved.

       “Thank you for the roses,” she whispered.

       “Mmph,” was all the response he made.

       She pulled the blanket up over his shoulders, then left the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

       She cracked open the front door a tad to get an idea of how cold it was, and she was surprised to find it tolerable. The air had warmed in the sunlight, and she placed the outside temperature around 50-degrees or so. A clock/barometer/indoor temp/outdoor temp combination that she hadn’t noticed hanging on the wall next to the door before confirmed that the temperature was 48-degrees with the barometric pressure rising. A glance at the trees showed a light wind, but nothing like the frigid blasts of last night, and she decided to wear her cranberry coat instead of her new parka.

       There was a notebook with a map of the resort and a list of its amenities on the cocktail table in the living room, and she took a moment to orient herself before she went out into the November afternoon. Apparently, Isle Elena boasted both an indoor and outdoor pool, plus numerous other outdoor activities such as boating, tennis, hiking, volleyball, and golf. It also had its own 4-screen movie theater, plus health spa, gym, and the sports bar she’d heard about. It was called Nike’s of all things. Talk about puns. Well, Bill had said puns were considered the highest form of humor – at least for very old vampires. Considering Elena was once a Greek Goddess, she probably fit the description of very old.

       There was also a leaflet in the notebook listing the current week’s activities at the resort. Oh look, she was missing a lecture on the influence of Quixiotal Demons on Early-Aztec Society. Damn. She’d have to wait for the movie.

       Putting her hair back and donning her cranberry coat, she opened the front door and stepped out onto a porch that stretched the length of the front of the cabin. It was furnished with two rocking chairs, a small table and a swing. She smiled at the rocking chairs. They looked new, and she wondered if the resort staff had put them out just for her. Lord knew she doubted vampires ever felt the need to sit on the front porch and watch the McPeople go by. She pushed that thought aside. She’d just committed herself to dating one of them (again!) so she needed to just get over it.

       She stepped off the porch and tried to pretend that she knew where she was going, confidently following the path from the front porch of their cabin to where it joined a larger trail that arced to the right and headed towards the lodge. She was proud of herself when she saw the steep roof (it was green metal now that she could see) of the huge lodge. It was even more grand and impressive in daylight.

       No one accosted her as she entered through the big sliding doors and made her way past the great room. Other than a couple sitting at one of the café tables near the big hearth, she didn’t see anyone until she arrived at the dining room. She was greeted by the same blue-skinned hostess who had seated her and Eric the night before.

       “Good afternoon, Miss Stackhouse,” the woman said brightly.

       “H… Hi. You know my name,” she blurted, surprised.

       “Of course. We make it a point to know the names of all of our guests.”

       “Oh. That’s great. That’s really great…” She leaned forward a little to read the woman’s nametag. “Noria. But you can call me Sookie.”

       “Very well, Sookie. Please follow me. Would you like a table by the windows?”

       “That’d be real nice, thank you.”

       Noria chuckled. “You humans are so polite.”

       She wondered why Noria didn’t ask about Eric, then realized how dumb that was.  _‘They know he’s a vampire, duh. He won’t be out in daytime.’_

       The hostess took her past the dining room’s fireplace to the back wall that had the huge, triangular-shaped windows. Now that it was daylight, she could see the French doors that led out onto a large deck. In warmer weather, the lodge probably offered outdoor seating for meals. She noticed that the dining room was mostly empty, with just a handful of guests sitting at the tables. The most remarkable of them was a woman with shockingly pink hair, but other than that, the rest of the guests looked “normal.”

        _‘Normal’s a setting on the dryer,’_  she reminded herself, and figured she’d left normal behind about two vampires and a weretiger ago.

       “Enjoy your meal,” Noria said, handing her a menu and leaving her be.

       She sat down, took a moment to glance at the lovely view of the lake, and then picked up her menu to see what they had to offer for breakfast/lunch.

       “Good afternoon, Miss Stackhouse. Would you like coffee?” a familiar voice asked.

       She smiled and looked up to see Toth standing there with a mug and a coffee pot.

       “Toth!” she greeted happily. His silver dreadlocks shined in the sunlight coming in from the windows.

       “Heya,” he answered, grinning. “How are you today, Miss Stackhouse?”

       “I’m fine. And please call me Sookie.”

       “Sookie, would you like coffee?” Toth said, pronouncing her name with an odd emphasis on the Os.

       “Yes, please.”

       Toth nodded, and placed the mug down on the table so he could pour the coffee.

       “I saw you at the performance last night,” she commented. “Did you have a good time?”

       “Oh yes. We were up until almost three in the morning dancing. Someone brought a Bodhran drum, and they set up one of the keyboards, and it became one big jam session that lasted two hours.”

       “We left well before that. I was tired. It had been a long day for me. Seeing as you’re working, you must be short on sleep today.”

       Toth waved a hand and grinned. “Oh, I don’t need much sleep. I get by on a couple of hours every three days or so.”

       She blinked, processing. He certainly did look perky for someone who had been up until at least 3 am.

       “That must be nice,” she commented.

       He just shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile. She put down her menu and rested her hands on it.

       “So. What do you recommend for breakfast?”

       He looked up a little, his face pensive, and she guessed he was accessing that perfect memory Supes seemed to have.

       “We have pecan pancakes. We also have grits, beignets and pain pardu, and we can make just about any combination of omelet you desire.”

       “Mmm. I’ll have the pancakes with… do you have sausage?”

       “Of course.”

       “Sausage and some fresh fruit. Melon or whatever you have.”

       Toth looked a little uncomfortable, then asked, “You mean human fruit, right? Nothing… exotic?”

       “Umm… Y’know, why don’t you surprise me on that one.”

       He grinned. “Okay. Will do. Anything else?”

       “Nope. That’ll do it. Thank you.”

       He nodded and took her menu. “I’ll put your order in immediately.”

       She smiled as he walked away, then returned her attention to the view out the windows.

       It was a beautiful day, and the sunlight was dancing on the water, sparkling along the waves that lapped at the lakeshore. The lodge itself was about the length of a football field away from the water’s edge, and she could see the sandy beach and boat launches from her vantage point. There were a couple of sailboats gliding along just offshore, and a few individuals were swimming. She shivered just looking at them.

       All in all, she had to admit that it was a beautiful place, and she was having a nice time, even though she wished it were warmer. Everything about the resort was casual and restful, and she certainly couldn’t fault the accommodations or staff on anything. Hell, even her gin and tonics had been unusually good last night.

       She was still gazing out the window, sipping her coffee (which was very good,) when she felt a little tingle that someone was nearby, and she looked up to see Elena standing a few yards away, staring out at the lake. The goddess was dressed in blue today, an outfit similar to what she had been wearing last night: a high-necked, long-sleeved shirt and a long skirt. Her hair was pulled back and secured with the silver clip, and the black curls fell almost to her waist.

       Since she was fairly certain Elena had not been there when she was seated, that could only mean that the goddess had just arrived, and since there seemed to be no apparent reason for why she would choose to come into the dining room and look out the windows that just happened to be near her table, Sookie could only assume that Elena had come to see her.

       Sure enough, Elena seemed to notice that she was being watched because she turned her head to look at Sookie with a mildly interested expression on her face. Sookie gulped when the goddess approached.

       “You are the human woman who came with the Norse vampire,” Elena stated.

       Sookie nodded and dropped her eyes. Elena was even more impressive up close. “Yes, ma’am.”

       “Are you enjoying my island?”

       “Oh yes, it’s wonderful,” she answered, looking up again.

       Elena smiled and the smile reached her dark eyes. “I am glad.” She looked back out towards the lake. “This place has been my sanctuary for four hundred years. I am glad that others have found the same peace and comfort here as I have.”

       Sookie frowned. If she remembered correctly, Eric had told her that the resort had been open for two hundred years, so that meant Elena had been there for two centuries longer than that.

       “It’s a really great place,” she confirmed.

       “Yes, it is. And now that you have been here, you can always return so long as you vow to preserve the safety of the sanctuary.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I appreciate the hospitality.”

       Elena reached out and touched her on the shoulder, directly on the place where she had been shot. The spot still hurt sometimes because the bullet had nicked the bone, and she felt a jolt burst through her like a zap of electricity. But more than that, she was dropped into a maelstrom of memories, a head-splitting cacophony of sounds, images and words all hitting her at once.

       Suddenly she was in ancient Greece, a pawn in a game of chess where women had no say. The daughter of Zeus and a human woman, she was coveted for her beauty. She was kidnapped, rescued, and then given away to a stranger in marriage. Multiple suitors had drawn straws for her hand, and she had been forced to go with the victor. She was kidnapped again, and her husband had waged war to win her back. That same husband had vowed to kill her for her “infidelity,” but dropped his sword at the last moment. She had almost wished he had done it, because then she would have been brought home to her Supernatural family. As it was, she would have to wait many years until her husband’s death, and her own exile, before she was hanged by a woman whom she had thought was her friend. On her death, her mortal life had ended, and she had ascended to her rightful place among the immortals.

       Years passed, centuries. She watched the powers of her relatives fade as belief in them waned. She had been lucky. Never very powerful to begin with, she was spared the worst of it, until, eventually, she was stronger than the others and could make her way out of their influence without fear that they could drag her back. She had known freedom for the first time, and she had found peace on an island in a new world.

       Now she was the goddess of her own small kingdom, buoyed by the devotion of those who came to her for solace and shelter. She took pride in knowing that she had endured while the others had faded, and pleasure in the fact that her egotistical father was so diminished and cowed. She had not seen him since she left Greece, but others in her family had visited her over the years. She no longer feared them. Her weakness had been her triumph, and the pawn had become Queen.

       The entire dizzying episode lasted only a few seconds, but when Sookie came out of it, she felt as if she had run a marathon, and there was one defining revelation that sharpened into clear focus even as the other memories faded: Elena was none other than the infamous Helen of Troy.

       Her eyes shot up to meet the goddess’s calm face, and she knew without having to be told that Elena had imparted the memories to her on purpose. She also knew that her shoulder would never cause her pain or discomfort ever again.

       The goddess released her, and she felt a profound sense of relief and gratitude, but she was unable to speak.

       “May you find what you seek here on my island,” Elena said.

       “Th… thank you, ma’am,” she stammered, finding her voice and forcing herself to calm down.

       The goddess nodded and walked away, leaving her still stunned. A moment later, Toth was there with her breakfast and a tall glass of water.

       “Drink, Miss Stackhouse. You look like you need it.”

       She stared up at him. “Did you know? Did you know she’s Helen?”

       Toth nodded as he set her pancakes and sausage down on the table. “Yes. We all know. It is our open secret here.”

       He placed a bowl of fruit next to the steaming food. She recognized the grapes, sliced banana and blackberries, but there was a deep purple fruit about the size of a kiwi there as well, and she guessed that was Toth’s “surprise.”

       “What’s that?” she asked, glad to have something else to focus on.

       “That is a Scathan Plum. I thought you might enjoy it. Most humans that come here do.”

       “Great. Thanks.”

       Toth smiled. “You’re welcome. Enjoy your breakfast.”

       She took a deep sniff and her mouth started watering. “I’m sure I will. It smells delicious.”

       “I’ll check on you in a few minutes.”

       She nodded and he went off towards the kitchen while she took her first bite of her pecan pancakes. They were amazingly light and fluffy, and they melted in her mouth. No matter what she might think of the climate and the odd guests, the food was incredible.

       She ate her breakfast quickly, finding herself suddenly starving, and enjoyed every last bite, even the Scathan Plum which was very sweet and juicy. Toth had made a good choice. He’d come back twice to check on her and refill her coffee, but, for the most part, she was left to eat in peace.

       When she was finished eating, Toth came to collect the dirty dishes, and she asked for the check.

       “Check, Miss… Sookie?” he asked, confused.

       “I know Eric probably paid for dinner last night, but it’s just me this morning so I’ll pay for it.”

       Toth’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Ah. There is no… check. All meals are paid for in the room charge.”

       She blinked. “Oh. Well, I guess I don’t have to worry about it then.”

       “No. I don’t think so.”

       She smiled. “Great. That’s great. I’ll… uh… go then. Do some exploring.”

       Toth nodded his head and stepped aside so she could get up from the table.

       “That will be nice for you. It is a beautiful day.”

       “Yeah, it is,” she agreed.

       “Enjoy your day.”

       “Thanks, you too.”

       “Always. Be safe.”

       She waved to Noria as she passed her and left the dining room.

       She did go outside to soak up some sunshine. She looked at her watch and saw that it was just 2:30 in the afternoon. Eric would rise about 5:30, so she knew she still had some time to kill. Her cranberry coat kept her warm enough, and the sweater Eric had given her was nice and toasty. She headed down to the shoreline to take in the rocky beach and clear waters of the lake. Superior was massive, and the smell coming off the water was different from the smell of the ocean, but of course that was because it was freshwater not salt. There was something untamed and raw about the lake, and looking at it made her feel small and vulnerable.

       She’d never been so far north or ever seen Lake Superior up close, so she did the hokey tourist thing and went close enough to put her hand in the water. It was freezing, and sticking one finger in the water was enough to make her whole body shudder.

       Still shivering, she shoved her hand into the pocket of her coat and pulled up the hood to keep her head warm as the wind shifted and picked up a bit. A particularly cold blast whipped across her cheeks, and she headed quickly for the warmth of the lodge.

       By now, she had walked to the rear of the building and could see the smaller structure that housed the pool, gym, spa and sports bar. She could also see the large outdoor pool with built-in water slide and “canyon” motif. The pool was built along three terraces with little waterfalls separating the levels. She passed the building and entered the main lodge from the lower level, navigating her way from memory to the game room and library.

       Thinking it would be nice to get a book that she could read back in the cabin, she headed for the library, passing the game room where the same two fox-tailed Supes were still playing on the game console. She wondered if they had been there all night as she walked by them and entered the sitting area just outside the library. A merry fire was burning in the small hearth, and it smelled wonderful.

       She opened the door to the library and walked in, surprised to find an Indian woman there in a green and gold sari. She was sitting in one of the reading nooks tucked off to the side, and she had a wide headband across her forehead.

       “Good afternoon. May I help you find something in particular?” the woman asked her.

       “Um… I was looking for a good book to read. A mystery, maybe?” she replied, confused because no attendant had been on hand when Eric had given her a tour yesterday. Maybe the library was only staffed during certain hours.

       “What kind of mysteries do you like?”

       “I like Carolyn Haines and Nora Roberts’s books,” she answered.

       The woman nodded and guided her to a set of bookshelves near the rear of the room. “Here is our mystery section. I hope that you find something to your liking.”

       “Thanks,” she said and set about perusing the selections.

       It didn’t take her long to choose a couple of paperbacks that she thought looked interesting, but then she had an idea and went back to the “librarian.”

       “Excuse me…” she said.

       The woman quickly slid the headband back over her forehead from where she had pushed it up onto her black hair, but not before Sookie caught a glimpse of what looked like a third eye. She steeled herself not to show any reaction when the woman turned to her.

       “Yes?”

       “Do you have anything on Viking mythology? I want to look up the goddess Hlin.”

       Since she was going to be dating one, she thought it might be a nice gesture to read up on some of the Viking legends. The woman smiled knowingly at her, and she wondered if everyone on the island knew who she was and that she was dating “the Norse vampire.”

       “I do believe that we do,” the woman answered, and moved briskly down a corridor between two sets of shelves.

       She stopped at the end of the row and appeared to be looking for something in particular. Sookie followed, remarking to herself that all libraries smelled the same.

       “Ah, yes,” the librarian said and reached up to select a book from an upper shelf. It was obviously very, very old and had odd symbols on the cover.

       “Here. This is the most comprehensive account of the Norse gods and legends we have. You will have to read it on the translator,” she went on, handing Sookie the old tome.

       She accepted the book with some hesitation because it looked so fragile and ancient. “Thank you.”

       “You are most welcome.”

       Laden with books, one of which had to be at least a hundred years old, she made her way over to the machine Eric had showed her the night before. She set the books down and placed the old book on the machine, opening it to the first page, then she sat down and turned on the thing, hoping that was all she had to do because otherwise she’d have to ask for more help.

       The machine whirred to life and the screen lit up, acting like an overhead projector that reflected the image of the book pages at her. She heard it making scanning and adjustment noises, and a moment later the illegible writing on the page morphed into English. She once again marveled at the thing.

       It took her a moment or two to get into it, but soon she was lost in the violent, warrior world of the Aesir with Thor and Odin and Freya and the Valkyries. She found the tale of Hlin, and her sorrow at the death of Odin’s son, Baldr. And she read of Valhalla and Asgard and Ragnarok, the death of the gods.

       By the time she realized how long she had been there, it was almost five o’clock, and she had been reading for almost two hours. In fact, the only thing that alerted her to the time was the librarian packing up her things to go.

       “Oh. It’s so late,” she remarked, looking at her watch.

       The woman smiled at her indulgently. “Yes, I often lose myself in reading as well.”

       She closed the old book and gently gave it to her. “Here. Would you please put this back where it belongs for me?”

       The librarian bowed and accepted the book. “Of course. I would be happy to. Did you find what you were looking for?”

       She nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

       The woman nodded and Sookie watched her disappear behind the shelves to return the book to its proper place. While she was gone, Sookie turned off the translating machine and picked up her paperbacks. A moment later, the librarian returned and they left the library together.

       “Thank you for your help,” she said.

       “I live to serve,” came the answer, and Sookie had no doubts that the woman was serious.

       They passed through the sitting area and entered the game room. The two fox-tailed Supes were still there, but now a little boy had joined them, and he was playing against one of the foxes. Sookie immediately recognized him as Vincent, Maria’s son, and she took a quick look around.

        _‘We’re over here,’_  Izzy’s mindvoice said with some amusement, and she turned to see the two women at the pool table.

        _‘You’re looking much better. Did you have a good evening?’_ Izzy continued, leaning over the table to take a shot at one of the balls. Maria was there, dressed in a dark blue sweater and jeans, awaiting her turn.

        _‘Yes,’_  she replied.  _‘It was a very nice night.’_

       The woman cast her a bemused glance.  _‘With the way that vampire was looking at you, I’d say your night was a sight more than just nice.’_

_‘That’s none of your business,’_  she shot back, miffed.

       Izzy’s mental laughter was accompanied by an audible snigger. Sookie saw Maria slap her friend on the arm chidingly, but that only made Izzy chuckle.

_‘Did you enjoy the show?’_

_‘Yes, please tell Maria that she plays very well. Eric, especially, was very moved.’_

_‘Tell her yourself.’_

       Knowing she was kind of on the spot, she walked over to the two and nodded her head to Maria. The Gypsy woman looked at her with calm eyes and waited for her to speak.

       “I really enjoyed your performance last night. Thank you for sharing your gift with everyone,” she said politely.

       Maria nodded her head back. “Thank you. I am glad to play for anyone who wants to hear.”

       “Oh! I so  ** _own_**  you! You are going  ** _down!_** ” she heard Vincent yell. The yell was answered by an unfriendly growl.

       She saw Maria frown and turn her head to look at her son. “Vincent, play nice.”

       “I am, Mom!” the boy answered, pressing the buttons on the videogame handset excitedly.

       “Kid’s fine!” one of the fox Supes added, not the one that was currently losing to a kid.

       Sookie saw Maria smile and shake her head.

       “Do you have children?” the Gypsy woman asked.

       She shook her head, feeling a little pang in her heart. “No.”

       Maria nodded knowingly, and Sookie decided to change the subject. “You know, Eric – he’s the vampire I was with last night…”

       “The tall blond? The one you are bonded to?”

       She stopped short. “Yeah. How did you know that?”

       “It’s obvious from your auras. When you are close to each other, your auras merge,” Maria explained as if she should have known that.

       “Oh.” Well, there wasn’t any sense in denying it since a) she couldn’t see auras to confirm or deny what Maria was saying and b) she and Eric  ** _were_** blood-bonded. She’d never denied the bond; it was the relationship she had denied, and now it looked like she was going to stop denying that too.

       She heard Izzy chuckle, and it wasn’t a pleasant sound. It made her feel like the poor country cousin who got lost in the big city.

       “It’s a strong bond. Stronger now, I think,” the woman added, drawing her attention away from her sarcastic friend.

       It took her a moment, but Sookie recovered and got back on track. “Uh, yeah. Anyway, he… uh… owns a vampire bar in Shreveport, Louisiana, and I am sure he’d be real happy to have you play there sometime.”

       “Louisiana? How is New Orleans? Izzy and I were going to go there to see how we could help with the… aftermath of Katrina, but first there was to be a gathering of the southern states vampires so we held off.”

       “The summit in Rhodes,” she clarified.

       Maria nodded. “Yes. But there was trouble at the meeting…”

       Trouble? Try a bunch of religious nutcases bombing a hotel full of people and vampires. “Yes. I know. I was there.”

       “You were there when the Gizeh was bombed?” Izzy interrupted. Her voice sounded exactly the same as her mental voice.

       She gulped and nodded. “Yeah. I was in the hotel. I was one of the survivors.”

       “Obviously,” Izzy commented.

       She rolled her eyes. “Yes, obviously.”

       “That must have been horrible for you,” Maria said.

       She pushed aside the memories of blood and death. “Yeah. It was.”

       “Was your bonded there too?”

       “Yeah.”

       Hearing Maria refer to Eric as her “bonded” made her uncharacteristically happy where before she would have been very uncomfortable. She supposed that was a result of her agreeing to be with him, but she also found that the idea of being bonded to him wasn’t so upsetting as it had been. Maybe that was something that had been healed by Maria’s music last night. She really hadn’t even begun to poke around inside herself for what felt different. She’d been dutifully  _not_  thinking about it since she’d gotten up.

       “Then that must have been doubly horrible for you. The hotel was bombed in the day,” Maria noted.

       She took a deep breath and agreed. “Yeah, but I was able to warn people and get Eric and Pam out. Then I went back in to see what else I could do.”

       “You’re one of the telepaths who helped find survivors,” Izzy said suddenly.

       She looked at the woman like a deer in headlights. “How did you know about that?”

       “Word travels fast in the demon circles. Especially when it involves a bunch of fanatics blowing up a hotel in broad daylight. We heard about two telepaths who looked for minds in the rubble. You saved a lot of lives that day.”

       She shook her head. “No. I could’ve saved a lot more if I’d have been paying closer attention. I was warned beforehand that something might be up, but I didn’t take it seriously until it was too late. The Fellowship snuck the bombs in as unclaimed luggage and coffins, and they had help from human staff members on the inside. If I’d have figured that out sooner, I could have prevented the whole thing.”

       “You can’t blame yourself for that,” Maria said.

       She nodded the way she usually did, expecting to silently disagree, but she found that the guilt she carried about Rhodes had been eased. The realization shocked her, and she wondered if that had been something else that had been healed last night.

       “Oh,” she whispered, then looked up to see Izzy smirking at her. She frowned and looked away. “I got out as many as I could.”

       “That is what is important. And you saved your bonded. That is also very important,” Maria assured her.

       “Yes,” she agreed.

       “And how are things now? We heard that the queen was badly injured,” the Gypsy woman asked.

       So much for word traveling fast in the demon circles. “Sophie-Anne is dead.”

       “The rumors are true then. Nevada took over,” Maria stated with some sadness.

       “Yeah.”

       She saw the two women share a knowing look that said neither was pleased with having the news confirmed.

       “Your bonded survived the takeover. He was lucky.”

       “Felipe de Castro left him alive on purpose because Eric’s a good sheriff, and he makes a lot of money in his area.”

       “That was good for him. Felipe has a… reputation for ruthlessness.” It was obvious that Maria was being diplomatic.

       “Yeah, but not as bad as New York and Jersey. He’s a real bastard,” Izzy commented. “Used to be Mafioso before he was turned. I pity anyone who crosses him. They’ll wake up with a lot more than a horse’s head in their bed.”

       “Yes, but Ragozzino is courting disaster. If he continues to anger the Interspecies Administrative Council, they’ll have him killed. At least Felipe knows how to keep the higher demons happy,” Maria corrected.

       Izzy shrugged. “True.”

       “How long ago did the takeover happen?” the Gypsy woman asked her.

       “About a month now.”

       Maria nodded. “You said your bonded owns a bar?”

       “Uh, yeah. It’s called Fangtasia. It’s in Shreveport. But I already said that, didn’t I?”

       Maria gave her an understanding smile. “Yes, but that’s all right. Fangtasia. What an interesting name.”

       “Gotta love those vamps. They have a killer sense of humor,” Izzy snorted.

       Maria rolled her eyes. Over by the game console, Vincent cheered about something, and the two foxes laughed. Whatever had upset the one had obviously been forgiven.

       “With so much upheaval in Louisiana, I am sure my gift would be in high demand. I’ll give you my contact information, and you can have your bonded get in touch with me to discuss terms and timeframe.”

       “Great. That would be great.”

       Izzy flipped out a business card and held it between two fingers for Sookie to take. She accepted the card and glanced at it briefly, noting that it had a phone number and email address on it.

       “Thanks. You guys are leaving tomorrow?”

       “Weather permitting, yes,” Maria replied cryptically.

       “Okay. I’ll give this to Eric and I am sure he’ll call you.” She glanced at her watch. It was 5:15. “And speaking of Eric. He’ll be getting up soon so I’d better go. It was nice talking to you.”

       “For us as well. Maybe we will see you again later tonight,” the Gypsy woman said.

       “Maybe. I’m sure Eric will want dinner so maybe we’ll see you in the dining room or something.”

       “It’s Monday. Packers are playing tonight. They’ll have the game on at Nike’s,” Izzy noted.

       She frowned, glad she wasn’t working, but also missing the tips she’d be making of she was. It struck her that she didn’t know if Eric liked watching football. He hadn’t seemed interested when he was staying with her, but then the season hadn’t really gotten started. She realized that she really didn’t know what Eric liked to watch at all. He’d liked Buffy well enough, but… It was something she was going to have to learn about him as they moved forward with their relationship.

       “I dunno. Maybe. I’ll let Eric decide where he wants to eat.”

        _‘Other than you?’_  came the mental jibe.

       She didn’t grace that with an answer. “You two have a good night,” she said to Maria instead, ignoring Izzy’s leer.

       “You as well. Be safe.”

       Be safe. That seemed to be the parting statement among the Supes here. Like “Have a Nice Day” or “Bye,” only it had a slightly different feel to it. In the twisted, often dangerous, world of the Supes, “Be safe” was probably the best thing anyone could wish for someone else.

       “Thanks. You too.”

       She made her exit before Izzy could make any more lewd comments – not that her leaving would have prevented the woman from telling her something mind-to-mind – and made her way up the lodge stairs to the main level.

       Leaving the warmth of the lodge, she was sorry she hadn’t worn the parka because the temperature had gone down significantly as it grew dark, and she pulled her hood up to stave off the wind. She was also missing the new gloves because the pockets of her coat were too small to fit the books she was carrying, and the wind was biting at her fingers. The sun was almost completely down so she knew Eric would be rising very soon if he wasn’t up already. She stepped off the porch and made her way along the lighted trails towards their cabin, hunkering down into the coat as the wind bit at her skin and hurrying to get out of the cold as soon as possible.

       Eric would want to eat shortly after rising so she knew she’d be back in the cold again. Then again, knowing Eric, he’d probably want to have dessert first.

       She ran a little faster.


	9. Chapter Nine

_Chapter Nine_

 

 

       Sookie realized she didn’t have a key to the cabin the moment she hopped up onto the porch, and for a moment she hoped Eric was awake to let her in. On a lark, she tried the knob and was surprised to find it unlocked. Maybe no one bothered to lock doors here because no one would be dumb enough to steal from a Supe (at least not while they were on vacation.)

       Entering the cabin, she began to feel a powerful sense of anticipation as she set down her borrowed books and hung up her coat on the peg by the door. Then she went immediately to the door at the back of the dining room and poked her head in. The bed was empty. She frowned. Eric was already awake. And here she had been entertaining fantasies of being there when he opened his eyes. Ah, well.

       Since he wasn’t in the little windowless bedroom, and he hadn’t scooped her up off the porch when she came in, she decided to try upstairs. Maybe he was already waiting for her… in the bed… naked. She felt a surge of lust and went running up the stairs.

       Eric was not in the bed. He was in the shower. She heard the water running from the slightly open bathroom door, and she began imagining him standing under that sinful dual showerhead, the water running down his muscled chest and lower. She tingled all the way down to her toes, and began peeling off her sweater and jeans.

       He heard her come into the bathroom because the moment she entered, the shower door slid open and one pale arm came snaking out to grab her wrist. She was never happier to be naked than when he pulled her gently into the stall with him, and positioned her under the hot water as his mouth found hers.

       “You’re cold, lover,” he whispered. “Let me warm you up.”

       He kissed her again and she felt the heat all over her body. She moaned. He chuckled.

       “I was here all alone in this amazing shower,” he murmured, his lips against her ear. “And I began to remember another shower that I had taken with you, my lover.”

       “Did you Call me?” she asked, not sure if she liked the idea.

       “No. But I am sure you felt my… longing.”

       Okay so what was worse? Being Called or feeling Eric’s lust? One was something he had some control over, the other… well… If that was how it was going to be between them, she’d better just quit her job now because she’d never get any work done.

       Her train of thought was derailed by another searing kiss as his hands began to get seriously busy on her body. Oh yeah. Talented fingers began massaging and kneading and stroking in all the right places as he fanned the flames of their growing lust. She didn’t know who was feeling what, but whatever it was, it was mutual and soon flaring out of control.

       She was shivering with need when he turned her around to face the shower stall wall, and slid his fingers into her, stretching and preparing her for what came next. She rested her palms flat against the slick wall and arched her back, offering, and she felt his pleasure at her action through the bond. His fingers pulled out, and she didn’t have time to miss them, as he gently grasped her hips, lifting them up a little and replaced his fingers with something much more satisfying. She groaned and braced herself as best she could as he began to move.

       The angle was odd because he was so much taller than she was, but he managed it, thrusting slow and deep, and she rocked with him as the water poured over them. He released her hips and placed one hand beside hers on the wall while the other slid around her to tease her nub with his fingers. She gasped as he began to work her in counter-rhythm to his thrusts, and soon she was rising on the golden wave. She wanted to hold back because she knew he wasn’t anywhere near ready, but he pushed her over the edge and stilled inside her while she shuddered.

       He supported her with his arms as her legs went a little weak, resting inside her as that part of him acted as a third support, until she was able to get control over her limbs again. She expected him to start moving a little more forcefully now because she’d climaxed and he hadn’t, but he obviously had other ideas. Where she was ready for some serious plundering, this Viking wasn’t in any hurry.

       He thrust a few more times, still slow and deep, just to tease her, then pulled out. She almost sobbed, but he just chuckled again and reached back to turn off the shower. They stepped out together, and he dried her off with a thick, fluffy towel while she did the same for him. It was an imitation of what they had done for each other all those months ago, only now the air was thick with anticipation.

       He took her hand, his blue eyes dark with want, and led her to the bed. She began to lie down, but he stopped her with a little shake of his head and a hand on her hip. He turned her around again, and she got the message, moving to kneel on all fours on the mattress. The position was exciting, kneeling there, waiting for him to mount her, and she arched her back again, letting him know she was ready. More than ready.

       She felt his lust and pleasure at her presenting herself to him, and she arched further, trying to get him to get on with it. His big hands gripped her hips again as she felt him take his place behind her and slide back in, his feet still planted on the floor. They moaned in unison.

       She now expected him to give her a good pounding, was eager for it even, but he was still set on taking his time. Slow, deep thrusts, pressing as far as physically possible with a little buck at the end just to push in that much further, then a long slide out before he pushed back in. She could feel every hard inch of him as he slowly drove her insane. She gripped the eiderdown, glad that her nails were short otherwise she would’ve ripped the cloth, and panted, nearly sobbing as he continued his unhurried exploration of her body.

       “Eric. Eric,  _please_ …” she groaned.

       He gave a little rumbling grunt in answer and thrust a bit harder.

_‘Oh, God, yes.’_

       She began to build towards a second climax as he got down to serious business. Maybe all he’d been waiting for was for her to beg for it. She wished she’d known that ten minutes ago, but no matter because he’d gotten with the program – finally! The bed shook under his thrusts, but it didn’t creak. Beds in expensive, all-inclusive resorts owned by goddesses did  ** _not_**  creak. Not that the noise would have mattered because she’d started making a few noises of her own.

       She was just on the edge again when he stopped and pulled out. She was about to scream when he flipped her onto her back, shoved two pillows under her hips to raise them up to the right level, and plunged back in. She cried out as he thrust deep enough for her to feel him poking the back of her throat, and howled when he leaned down to bite her breast, sucking hard on the nipple. He released her breast, grabbed her thighs to bend her pelvis up, and started pounding. She let him know how much she was enjoying the ride, and wished she could grab that gorgeous ass just to keep him inside her that much longer.

       “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice ragged, his eyes wild. “Sookie, look at me!”

       She obeyed, and stared him in the face as he drove her out of her mind. The second climax hit, and her whole body shuddered under the force. She was still watching when Eric came completely unglued. His head fell back, his eyes rolled up in their sockets, and his mouth opened, but all that came out was a strangled gurgle as he jerked violently, spasming inside her.

       He fell on top of her. Not a comfortable position considering he was half off the bed, but he rectified that almost immediately as he pulled himself together enough to disengage and crawl up to slump beside her. His hands gathered up the eiderdown and wrapped it around both of them as she shivered and quaked with aftershocks. She was still seeing little sunbursts behind her eyes, and she was sure she’d just witnessed a supernova. Eric was unbelievably smug and practically purring with satisfaction.

       “Are you pleased with yourself?” she asked, still panting and feeling little aftershocks.

       “Mmmmm. Very. That was incredible. I have officially confirmed that you are without a doubt, the best lover I’ve ever had.”

       Well, he was definitely the best she’d ever had, but she was half afraid to tell him that because his ego was big enough already. He turned his head and gave her a tender kiss on the forehead.

       “Thank you,” he murmured.

       The words made her feel warm all over, and she squeezed her eyes shut to hold back the tears. He gave another little rumble of pleasure, and she was starting to be able to interpret his wordless sounds. The rumble meant: “I am happy and sexually sated for the next ten minutes.”

       “Did you like my gifts?” he asked, his voice full of content fondness. Post-coital Eric was so sweet.

       “The roses and chocolates?”

       “Yes.”

       “Yes, they are lovely. Thank you. The chocolates are very good.”

       “Did you eat them all?”

       “Not yet. I just had a couple of pieces before I went over to the lodge for breakfast.”

       “So you saved some for me to watch while you eat them,” he purred.

       She shivered and tamped down the rush of desire. Eric just crooned.

       “I’ll eat them later, after we get back from dinner. Although you’ve already had your dessert,” she teased.

       “Dessert? You think that was dessert? My lover that was just an appetizer. I intend to make a full three-course meal of you tonight.”

       Okay, that had so many meanings on multiple levels, she didn’t know where to start. “You do?” she stammered.

       “Oh yes. I will have you as many ways as I possibly can while we are here. I think I will make love to you in front of the fire again when we get back from supper.”

       It was the first time he’d used the words “make love” when he still remembered who he was, and she got a little choked up. He seemed to notice how quiet she had gotten because his hand came up to stroke her arm gently.

       “You don’t like it when I use that term?” he asked.

       “It’s not that.”

       “You don’t like any reference to love then.”

       She stayed silent, but her silence spoke volumes. He sighed.

       “You don’t love me.”

       “I don’t know,” she admitted. Admitting that she loved the undead Viking would open up a whole new can of worms that she was just not ready to face.

       He kissed her forehead again. “I know,” he said, then let out a theatrical sigh. “You’ll just string me along and use me for sex.”

       He even punctuated his woeful complaint with a dramatic arm crossed over his forehead. She snickered and smacked him with a handy pillow.

       “You,” she accused, smiling in spite of herself.

       He was up on his knees in an excited whirl before she could even see him move. “Oh! Is this a  _pillow fight?_  I’ve never had one! What do I do now?”

       There was a childlike excitement on his face that cracked her up, and she started laughing. She shook her head and smacked him again, getting him somewhere on his torso. He grabbed a pillow and followed her lead, batting her back with about one quarter of his strength. She giggled and he grinned.

       “I don’t believe I’m doing this.”

       “What? Engaging in infantile mock-aggression with stuffed cloth bags?” he asked cheerfully.

       “No. Reliving my nonexistent childhood with a thousand-year old vampire.”

       “But you must admit I’m entertaining.”

       She smacked him right in the face for that one. He growled and it became a free-for-all, with both of them laughing like children, until one of the pillows ripped and sent poly-fill flying everywhere. She rose up, trying to get away from the flying fluff, when Eric grabbed her around the waist and plopped her right back on the bed. She didn’t have a chance to protest as his mouth found hers again, and murdered pillows became the least of her worries.

       When he was finished with her, every bone in her body had turned to Jell-O, and she couldn’t even think about moving, let alone actually get out of bed.

       “So? Was that the main course?” she asked lazily. He’d bitten her on her inner thigh, but the amount of blood he drew when he fed from her wasn’t anywhere near as much as Bill used to take when he fed.

       “No. That was the antipasto,” he said with an Italian drawl.

       She almost smacked him with a surviving pillow, but found that she couldn’t lift her arm. “I thought you said you would make a three-course meal of me tonight.”

       “I changed my mind. I’ll make five of you. Possibly six.”

       “And I’ll be unconscious for courses four through six.”

       “No one has ever passed out from my attentions,” he told her, sounding slightly miffed. “I’m very good at pacing myself.”

       She snorted, giggling as she pressed her face to the crook of his arm. Her stomach took that moment to grumble and remind her that she hadn’t eaten since that afternoon. It was almost seven now. Eric heard the noise too and was already moving.

       “And on that note, my lover, we must get you fed. We need to keep up your strength.”

       She made a little mumble of protest because she wasn’t looking forward to going out in the cold again, and she wondered if the resort offered cabin-service, but then she decided against it. There were more things she wanted to do with Eric other than spend the whole night in bed. If they were to have a relationship (as Eric obviously wanted) then they needed to do things outside of just having sex, no matter how great the sex was.

       She got up and accepted the clothes he handed her – the ones she had taken off in order to join him in the shower. He held the sweater to his face and took a deep sniff of it, his fangs running out.

       “This smells of sunlight and the lake and you,” he breathed, a blissful look in his eyes.

       She smiled and pulled the sweater on after refastening her bra. He went to the dresser and pulled out underwear and clothes for himself: boxers, jeans, a t-shirt and a heavy sweater. They both finished dressing at about the same time, and she took a few moments to brush her hair and dab on a bit of perfume. Eric took her brush and smoothed out her hair for her, then did his own. By seven-thirty, they were ready to head down to the lodge.

       He held her parka out for her, giving her his customary shoulder massage as she slipped her arms into it, only this time he accompanied it with a kiss to her neck before he pulled the collar of the parka up to protect her throat. Eric never bit her where others could see, unlike Bill who almost always bit her on the neck. She really needed to stop comparing Eric to Bill.

       Her vampire Viking opened the front door of the cabin and held it while she skittered out, hunkering down into the parka with her hands deep in the pockets. She’d put the hat on her head and the gloves on her hands, but they did little to really hold back the cold. And her legs were freezing through her jeans. Her teeth were chattering before she even got off the porch.

       “Come on, lover, get on my back. I’ll have us there in no time.”

       She didn’t argue and climbed on, ducking her face into his hair. She felt him take off, flying this time instead of running, and the air moved around them as he carried her. Two minutes or so later, he set her down in the atrium of the lodge, and she began the process of thawing out.

       Noria was still in the dining room acting as hostess, and she smiled when she saw her and Eric come in.

       “Good evening, Mr. Northman, Sookie. A table by the fire?”

       “Yes, please,” Eric confirmed in his most pleasant voice.

       “Right this way.”

       Noria took them to a table that was right next to the hearth, making it toasty warm, and it appeared to have been specifically reserved for them because it was the only empty table close to the fire. Having come in during prime dinnertime, the dining room was crowded, but Sookie noticed that the noise level was perfectly fine; very unlike Merlotte’s on a Football night.

       Eric helped her out of her coat, then held the chair out for her while she sat down, and pushed it in when she was ready. The hostess handed them their menus – Sookie noticed that Noria gave Eric the same small menu as last night, but hers was different – and left them to their own devices. Toth appeared three minutes later to tell them about the specials and get her drink order. He seemed just as perky as ever.

       In anticipation that she was going to need the extra protein and iron, she ordered a steak and accompanied it with a spinach salad and broccoli side dish. Eric ordered the steamed pods again, but refrained from getting the one flavored like fairy blood, sticking instead to O-neg and the AB-neg he’d liked so much.

       “It’s no good to have too much of that. It has addictive qualities, even in its Bloodvine form,” he explained.

       “So. I hear the Packers are playing tonight. Did you want to watch the game at Nike’s?” she asked, taking a bite of her dinner. It was fabulous. The meat melted on her tongue.

       He blinked at her, and she could tell that he was trying to decipher what she’d just said.

       “Green Bay? The NFL? They’re playing tonight.”

       Recognition filled his eyes and he looked relieved. “Ah. Football. I never knew you to be a football fan, Sookie.”

       “I’m not. Not really.”

       “Then why did you want to go watch the game?” he questioned, his brows furrowing.

       “I don’t. I was asking  _you_  if you wanted to watch.”

       “Me?”

       “Yeah, you.”

       “I have no interest in watching football, my lover,” he replied with a smile.

       “Are there any sports you do like watching?” she questioned, figuring now was a good time to start finding out his preferences for things.

       He took a sip of his drink, his blue eyes dancing with amusement. He knew what she was doing, and was going along with it – or at least she hoped so. She didn’t want to upset him by being too pushy or prying too much. She tested the bond and found him content and happy.

       “Human sports? Not really. Although I do have a perverse fondness for curling.”

       “Curling? What’s curling?” She was pretty sure he wasn’t taking about hair.

       He grinned. “It is a sport played on ice. It involves three men with brooms and a large stone.”

       She blinked. “Brooms and a stone. On ice.”

       His grin grew even wider. “A team of four players must try to guide the stone into the goal area by sweeping the ice in front of it as it slides.”

       “You’re pulling my leg.”

       “I most certainly am not.” He raised his voice a little and called out to the general room “Bonspiel!”

       “SWEEP!!” came the yelled reply from several dining room guests.

       “I rest my case,” Eric said smugly, folding his fingers in front of his chin. He was laughing silently.

       She hid her face in her hands.

       “So you like curling,” she finally said.

       “I didn’t say that. I said I have a perverse fondness for it. It’s so completely ridiculous that it’s endlessly amusing,” he clarified. “I discovered it one night when I was flipping channels during the last Winter Olympics, and I had to ask myself what depraved mortal ever came up with something so idiotic as to chase a rock around on a sheet of ice with a broom? Then I read that it was invented in Scotland and everything made sense.”

       “Ooookay…”

       “What sports do you like to watch?” he asked, turning the tables on her.

       “Well… I like high school football. And I used to play softball.”

       He smiled and sat back, cocking his head at her. “I can see you playing softball. I’d love to see you in short-shorts, show all that lovely leg of yours.” He paused, reconsidering. “Then again, maybe I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t like everyone seeing your legs.”

       She frowned. She was hoping the vampire possessiveness wouldn’t rear its head quite so soon. “Eric…” she chided. “You’ve seen the uniform I wear at Merlotte’s in summer.”

       “I’ll have to talk to the shifter about that.”

       “You will do no such thing,” she hissed.

       “You are my woman. I cannot have you displaying your assets for all to see,” he replied calmly, but his eyes were hard.

       “I may be your woman, but I am not your possession. I belong to myself.” She’d expected him to be angry, but instead he was beaming. She creased her brows. “What?”

       “You admitted that you’re my woman.”

       She groaned and nabbed another bite of her steak before it got cold. Eric opened his steamer and squeezed himself another glass of blood.

       “Alright. I’ll concede the uniform because I see the futility in it, and I am nothing if not pragmatic,” he stated, very pragmatically she thought. “Now that we have come to an agreement, I intend to pick my battles with you carefully.”

       “Well lah-dee-dah, Mr. High and Mighty,” she snorted, crossing her arms across her chest. “Thank you ever so much.”

       “Don’t be so angry,” he said, his voice conciliatory, and she felt his calming influence through the bond. She railed against it.

       “I’ll be angry if I want, Eric. You know I hate being controlled,” she fumed through gritted teeth.

       He sighed, but she felt him release her because her anger came back full force. She had half a mind to leave him right there, but then she remembered that he’d brought her to an island precisely so she couldn’t do that. She took a few deep breaths and got herself under control.

       “Thank you.”

       He gave her a little nod of his head and sipped his blood. She finished her dinner, but passed on dessert. She still had chocolate back at the cabin. When he was finished drinking his supper, they both stood, and he allowed her to lead the way as they left the dining room. He was being quiet, waiting for her to speak.

        _‘Picking his battles,’_  she thought dourly, but she could feel his unhappiness echoing across the bond so she reached out and took his hand.

       “Let’s go somewhere quiet,” she said.

       “Don’t you want to go back to the cabin?”

       She shook her head. “Not yet. If we do, we’ll probably end up having sex again, and I want to clear some things up with you first.”

       “The study outside the library should be quiet,” he offered.

       She nodded and they headed for the stairs. Eric was right and the study was empty, but there was a fire burning low in the small hearth. She sat down in a comfortable chair next to the fire, and Eric sat in another just opposite her. His face was serious so she knew she had his attention.

       “Eric… if this is going to work between us, you have to trust me.”

       “I do trust you, my lover,” he insisted.

       She shook her head. “That means you have to let me make my own decisions and my own mistakes. And you have to let me feel the things I am feeling without trying to influence me…”

       “Unless it is to keep you safe from harm or to help you when you need strength,” he interrupted.

       She conceded the point. “All right. You’ve helped me that way before and I’ve really appreciated it, but for little things, like when we’re arguing, you have to let me feel what I’m feeling. You have to let me be honest, and you have to be honest too.”

       He blinked at her, and she wondered if it was a vampire thing she was dealing with, like Bill having her uncle killed when he found out the man had molested her as a child. Come to think of it, that situation might help her explain this one better.

       “Okay. Listen. I had an uncle. He… molested me when I was a little girl.” She saw Eric sit up and grip the arms of the chair. There was anger creeping up the bond, but she pushed it away. “Anyway. I told Bill about him. That night, my uncle fell down a flight of stairs and broke his neck. I knew Bill had him killed…”

       “Good for Bill. If he hadn’t, I would have,” Eric growled in a voice that was absolutely lethal.

       “No! See. That’s what I’m talking about. You can’t go around fixing things for me…”

       “You were happy enough to let me fix your driveway,” he pointed out.

       “That’s different. That isn’t you or Bill acting like a vampire Godfather and making someone an offer they can’t refuse. I want to be able to tell you about a customer who pissed me off without being afraid that you’re gonna pay them a visit later.”

       “That depends entirely on what they did you make you angry. If they touched you or damaged something of yours, then they will have to deal with me. And, of course, anyone who harms you is dead.” He was serious and she knew it.

       “No. No. No. You cannot go around killing everyone who hurts me,” she insisted.

       “If they touch you, if they harm you, they are dead. I will not tolerate it. And it isn’t just about protecting you, my lover. It’s about me being able to handle the things that happen in my area. I must prove to Victor and Felipe that I am a competent sheriff. If I let insults towards you stand without extracting vengeance, that weakens my position,” he explained. “I can make the punishment fit the crime, and I won’t permanently damage a human if I can avoid it, but I can and I will defend you from all threats. I…” He paused, thinking. “I wouldn’t be putting you first if I didn’t.”

       Okay, so it was a vamp thing and a territory thing. She could kind of understand that.

       “You won’t kill any humans?” she pressed.

       “I can’t promise that, my lover. If a member of the Fellowship comes after you, or some other person who has issues with your being seen with a vampire, I may be forced to seriously hurt or kill them in order to protect you,” he answered.

       She remembered the nutcases in the Fellowship, and the witches that Hallow and her brother had gathered. Okay, they had been awful, and some of them had deserved what they’d gotten even if they were human. It was a very unchristian way of looking at things, and her own conscience poked her in the ribs, but she couldn’t pay it too much mind. When it came down to it, if she had to choose between dying or living, she’d choose living. Like she had started to suspect, she was a bad Christian, but a decent survivalist. She was starting to wonder if any of her moral high ground was left, and she sighed, defeated.

       “What are you thinking, my lover?” he asked, and she could feel that he was getting concerned.

       “I was just thinking that I once knew what was right and what was wrong, and now I’m not sure about anything anymore,” she admitted with some resignation.

       “I’m sorry.”

       “Are you really?”

       “Yes. You are at a crossroads, and I cannot help you. I can only be here for you, and tell you how much I care, and that you can lean on me whenever you need me.”

       Heavy words. She sighed, getting depressed.  _‘Okay, subject change time.’_

       “Did you know that Elena is Helen of Troy?”

       Eric’s eyes opened wide. “Did she tell you that?”

       “Uh, yeah, sort of. I saw it when she touched me.”

       “She touched you? When?” He sat up a little straighter, definitely interested.

       “This afternoon in the dining room. She came to talk to me.”

       “Did she say anything else?”

       “That I could come back whenever I wanted as long as I promised to keep this place safe.”

       He closed his eyes and looked relieved. When he opened them again, he was very pleased. “She’s accepted you then. She wouldn’t have extended the invitation and told you her history if she hadn’t.”

       “So I passed some kind of test,” she commented.

       “Oh yes, and I would say you passed with flying colors.” He grinned at her. “I knew you would do me proud, lover. You always have.”

       Well, yay for her. Somehow she’d passed some kind of character exam without even knowing she was being tested, and now she’d found herself officially approved by a former Greek goddess who had turned resort owner, and her vampire boyfriend was proud of her. Great. She sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted and worn out.

       “Sookie, my lover? What is wrong?”

       She sighed again and looked at the fire. She was getting dragged in again, wasn’t she? Back into the deceitful, conniving world of the Supernaturals.

       “Eric, what are we doing?”

       “We’re sitting here waiting for you to figure it out in your head that I’m the best man for you, so we can go back to our cabin and have more sex,” he stated bluntly.

       She burst out laughing because it was so… so  ** _Eric_**  to be so frank and crass, but his statement had been exactly what she’d needed to snap her out of her pity party. Eric was gorgeous. He was great in bed. He kept his word, and he’d proven numerous times that he would support her in whatever way she needed. What more did she want?

       He was now looking at her with an arched brow and a twinkle in his eye, and that just made her laugh harder. She reached over and patted him on the knee as she stood.

       “C’mon, let’s find something to do that we both will enjoy.” He leered at her, but she cut him off. “Not sex. Something fun.”

       “Sex with me isn’t fun?”

       “Not really. It’s more like an earth-shattering experience.”

       He sidled up to her, his hand snaking around to rest low on her hip. “Really?”

       She stopped and looked up at him. “Eric, I want our relationship to be more than sex. I want… I want to know what you like, and I want to do things with you that aren’t sex.”

       “Like what?”

       She groan, frustrated. “Like going out to a movie or a show or dinner or bowling even.”

       “I like bowling. I wanted to start a Fangtasia league, but vampires have a nasty habit of throwing the ball so hard it smashes the pins.”

       She could see that happening. She chuckled and continued walking, leading them both into the game room. Oddly, the two foxes were nowhere in evidence. Maybe they’d finally gotten tired of playing video games.

       “Look,” she said, pointing to the pool table. “Do you like pool? Or air hockey? Do you play video games? I have no idea what you like to do in your free time.”

       She spied a dartboard with darts hung on the wall, and she went over to it, pulling out the darts and bringing them to Eric.

       “Do you like darts?” she asked, handing them to him.

       He grinned the same childlike grin he’d had on his face during the pillow fight and stepped back alllll the way to the other side of the room. With a hand, he waved her to step well out of the path of the darts, then he took aim and threw all four darts faster than she could see. A glance to the board showed that all four were bulls-eyes, and he was beaming like a fool. She rolled her eyes.

       “I’m being an idiot aren’t I?” she sighed.

       “No. You are making me incredibly happy,” he answered, going to a rack of pool cues and selecting two. “Let’s play pool.”

       She accepted the cue with a frown. “I’m not very good.”

       “Then I will help you,” he stated, retrieving the triangle and setting up the balls. “I understand what you are trying to do. True couples have more in common than sex. They share interests and hobbies and affections. They make each other laugh and depend on each other. This is what you want. I want this too.”

       He set the balls and lifted the triangle, then he handed her the cue ball. “Would you like the first shot?”

       She gave him a look, but set the cue ball down on the pool table and lined up her shot. She was about to make her move when she felt Eric lean close.

       “Hold the cue like this,” he whispered, adjusting her fingers on the stick. “And don’t lean so far forward.” His hips pressed against hers as he moved her back a little bit.

       This could get interesting really quick.

       “Okay. Now, don’t look at the cue ball, look at the target. Pull your arm back just so…” She moved her arm and he placed his hand on her elbow to stop it when she’d pulled back enough. “Right there. Now, make your shot. Don’t take your eye off the rack.”

       She obeyed and thrust the cue forward sharply. The end hit the cue ball and sent it rolling towards the rack. It struck and the balls broke perfectly, sinking the 9-ball in the corner pocket.

       “Excellent. Looks like you’re stripes. I’m assuming we’re playing Eight Ball?”

       “I guess.”

       He nodded, and motioned for her to continue. She set up another shot, but missed even with Eric’s coaching – or despite it since he seemed to be more interested in touching her (oh so lightly and without an inappropriate thought at all. Oh no!) than actually teaching her how to shoot pool.

       “Where did you learn to shoot pool?” she asked as he sunk the 3-ball in an impressive bank shot.

       “Belgium 1754,” he answered.

       “What other games do you play?”

       He paused, considering another complex shot for the 5-ball, then replied, “Why don’t you tell me what games you play, and I’ll tell you if I play them.”

       Well, of course, he probably knew hundreds of games, some of which hadn’t been played in centuries.

       He missed the next shot, but she couldn’t be certain he hadn’t done it on purpose, and since he leaned suggestively over her as she tried to line up her next shot, she was fairly sure he’d had ulterior motives. She made her shot and sunk the 12.

       “Beautiful,” he murmured, his lips against her ear. She shivered. “You are an excellent student. But then, I’ve always known you were a quick study.”

       He stroked her neck with one finger. She made a strangled noise and moved away, but not before she’d felt him graze her with his fangs. Definitely some excitement there.

       “Bill and I used to play Scrabble,” she commented.

       At the mention of Bill’s name, he snorted and drew away. “I can play Scrabble in eight languages. What else did you and Bill used to do?”

       She made a play for the 14 but missed. “We used to go to the movies or just watch TV.”

       “We watched TV,” he said, his voice wistful. He went for the 5-ball and sunk it in the side pocket. “You left me one night watching Buffy. I laughed and laughed. And sometimes we’d just sit in front of your fire and talk. You had the most hideous quilt, but you used to keep dragging it out to keep my feet warm. We’d snuggle under it and… What did you call it? Gossip like old buddies.”

       She swallowed. “Yeah. We did.”

       He came close again, and his presence was both comforting and unsettling. He’d gone into that silent, brooding mood that always made her nervous because he was far too astute for his own good. Or hers.

       “I remember lying with you on the floor. We talked about your life. About Bill. You showed me your scar. I remember thinking how brave you were, even though you were still a stranger to me,” he told her softly as he brushed back a lock of her hair.

       “Then you told me about how I had given you my blood so you would heal from the injury, and I wondered why I would do such a thing. When you told me you had killed Lorena to save Bill even though he had betrayed you and been unfaithful, I was shocked. I knew then what caliber of woman you were even if I couldn’t remember our relationship to each other. I vowed to myself that I would win you and prove to you that I could be a good mate.”

       He was pressed against her now, his body bracing her against the edge of the pool table, and she fought equal measures of lust and fear. Lust was winning out.

       “When you yielded to me in the shower, I was overjoyed. Sex with you was amazing. Joining with you completed me. Then you shocked me again when you thanked me for the pleasure I’d given you. You did that a number of times, and it moved me each time. No one had ever thanked me for such a thing, and yet there you were, grateful to me when I was the one who should have been expressing my thanks.”

       He lifted the pool cue from her nerveless fingers, and slid his hands down to cup her under her butt. Then he picked her up and balanced her on the edge of the pool table, his hips between her thighs, his hardness evident as he rubbed the seam of his jeans against her crotch. If she’d been wearing a dress, no doubt he would already be in her.

       She moaned as he breathed a cool breath across her neck even as his hands were kneading her sides.

       “Thank you,” he whispered, dipping his tongue into her ear, and then sucking lightly on her earlobe. Thank goodness she hadn’t put in any earrings in that day.

       “Mmmph,” she choked, and arched towards him, spreading her legs further in invitation.

       “Have you ever had sex on a pool table?” he teased.

       “No,” she managed to say.

       “Mmmm. Good,” he crooned, letting one hand travel southward to the button of her jeans. He deftly flipped it open and slipped his hand in, burrowing under her panties and probing her with two fingers.

       His mouth covered hers and swallowed her mews of pleasure as he made her squirm. A tiny part of her brain was shrieking that they were about to have sex in a public place, that anyone could walk in on them at any time, but that only made the rest of her that was really into what Eric was doing that much more excited. The danger of discovery as a turn-on. Go figure.

       She placed her hands on his amazing butt and pulled him closer. He let her with a deep, guttural groan and bucked against her pelvis as his other hand slid under her sweater to fondle her breasts. The tiny, protesting part of her brain short-circuited and blipped out. She was arching, hitching her legs up to brace her knees on his hips, when he came to a full stop and abruptly pulled away.

       “Someone is coming,” he whispered as she moaned a protest, and quickly set her clothing to rights.

       She got her higher brain functions working again as he placed her back on her feet, and they were the very picture of innocence playing pool when the two fox-tailed demons came back into the game room carrying three large pizzas apiece. She saw the two of them pause as they came into the room and take a quick sniff before turning their heads to spy them over by the pool table. They chittered and leered. Eric gave them a stern look and growled back, and the two were smart enough to scurry over to the game console and studiously ignore them. Eric gave a little snort of satisfaction in their general direction and she giggled, shaking her head.

       “What are they?” she asked.

       “Kitsune. Japanese fox-demons. Mostly harmless,” he replied, sinking the 4 and the 2-balls in two consecutive shots. He was winning by a long shot. Only the 1, 6 and 7-balls were left out of the seven he needed to clear.

       “Ah.”

       He missed the 1 and it was her turn again. He came close to offer instruction, and she was able to sink the 14 and the 10 before her hand slipped when he nipped her earlobe, and she missed the 13. She glared at him, but he just grinned and cleared the 6 off the table. She grabbed his butt and made him nearly gouge the felt as he misfired his shot for the 1 again. He gave her a leer that told her he wasn’t at all unhappy with her method of distracting him, but that now all bets were off.

        _‘He wouldn’t do anything really blatant in front of witnesses, would he?’_  she thought, as she tried for a very tricky backshot for the 15. Oh, how wrong she’d been.

       He pretended to drop his cue stick as she made the shot, and he bit her on her inner thigh as he came up. His fangs hadn’t been out when he did it so he hadn’t broken through the denim, but he’d made her whole body jerk. The 15 missed the pocket by half an inch.

       “My turn,” he murmured into her ear as he walked past her to set up his next shot for the 7.

       She tried to give him a sour look, but she couldn’t keep the corner of her mouth from turning up. He raised both eyebrows and sunk the 7 with a theatrical flourish. Only the 1 and the 8-ball were left for his side, but the 1 would be a very difficult shot because it was against the 11-ball and the 13 was also blocking it.

       “Hmmm,” he said, sizing up the shot from all angles.

       The look of concentration on his face was comical, and she hid her smile behind her hand. He cast her a glance that told her he was playing with her and enjoying every minute of it. He missed the shot for the 1, but it gave her an opening to sink the 11. Eric came over and put both hands on the edge of the pool table, bracing her between them as he lowered his mouth to her ear again.

       “You’re catching up to me, lover.”

       “Looks like it,” she agreed, noting that only the 13, 15, 1 and 8-balls were left.

       “Hmm. Go for the 15 again. If you clip it, you can send it right into the pocket, but be careful otherwise you’ll scratch the cue ball,” he said.

       She nodded. She’d been thinking the same thing too.

       “I’m sorry we got interrupted,” he continued, his voice very low as he pressed his crotch to her backside. “Can I take a rain check?”

       She bumped him with her shoulder, trying to egg him to move so she could take the shot. “Maybe. You know of any other pool tables we might have access to – other than the one at Merlotte’s?” she hastily added when she saw the glint in his eyes.

       “Fucking you on the pool table in your shifter boss’s bar. Now that might be something. The lingering scent alone would be enough to make my point,” he crooned.

       “You are not doing anything to me on Sam’s pool table. Now scoot so I can finish beating you.”

       He snickered, but stepped aside, giving her plenty of room to make the shot. She clipped the 15 just so, and it plopped into the pocket. She gave Eric a smug look, but he just smiled.

       “One left. What do I get if you win?” he said.

       “What do  ** _you_**  get? Don’t you mean what do  ** _I_**  get when I win?”

       “Yes, but anything you would want would be a treat for me too, so I don’t really care which one of us wins,” he replied with a shrug.

       She knew she could think of a few things that he wouldn’t consider treats, but he was right in assuming she wouldn’t ask for any of them.

       “What do you get if you win?” she countered.

       “I already said what I wanted.”

       “Sam’s pool table?”

       He grinned.

       “Oh great. Now I have to win,” she grumbled.

       “You really know nothing about negotiating, do you?” he said suddenly.

       “Huh?”

       “I just told you that, if I win, I’ll ask for something you will find unacceptable. Instead of offering me something else in return, you automatically assume that you have no choice but to beat me. Why don’t you try making me a counteroffer and see if I’ll take it?” he explained reasonably.

        _‘And now I see why he’s such a great businessman. Well, okay… Since I know he’s going to want to do it anyway…’_

       “Alright. If you win, I’ll let you remodel my bathroom and install one of those dual showerheads we liked so much this evening.”

       His eyebrows went almost all the way up into his hair. “Really?”

       “Really.”

       He gave her a devious grin. “Done.”

       “Wow. That was easy,” she stated, half-amazed.

       “I can fuck you once on the shifter’s pool table or I can have you anytime I want in that amazing shower. That’s not too hard of a choice for me, lover.” 

       Well, if he put it that way… She might just let him win.

 


	10. Chapte Ten

_Chapter Ten_

       Eric won, but it was a close game. Both of them had sunk their final balls, but she had missed the shot for the 8-ball and he hadn’t. He was openly gleeful now, flush with his victory, and already making plans to knock out walls and install a new vanity and soaking tub in addition to the shower.

       “Whoa. Whoa. Wait a minute there, buster. I said you could remodel for the shower, not redesign my whole first floor,” she warned.

       “That house is a relic, my lover. I am sure it could use a new electrical system and more efficient heating. And new windows. I remember how drafty it was.”

       “Drafty? My house isn’t drafty,” she argued.

       He gave her a look that said she was obviously delusional. “Not to mention that I would like to put in a few other updates.”

       “Like what?”

       “A security system, for one.”

       “I have the lights,” she countered.

       “Yes, so when death comes, you will at least be able to see it,” he replied drolly. “No, my lover. You will need a more comprehensive security system from now on.”

       She paused and considered his words. “Because I’m dating you and that will make me a target.”

       “No vampire in Louisiana will dare to come after you, but there are others, and those in the Shifter world, who might try to get to me through you,” he admitted.

       “I’m a friend of the pack for both the Shreveport and Jackson Weres, and both Calvin and Sam speak for me to the Shifters,” she reminded.

       “That didn’t keep the St. Catherine Weres from trying to kill you,” he pointed-out.

       She wanted to say something sarcastic in answer, but she couldn’t. Eric was right.

       “There is also the matter of your great-grandfather,” he added.

       “Niall?”

       He nodded gravely. “As I have told you, Niall has his enemies. Now that he has made himself known to you, others will know about you as well. That could get very dangerous.”

       “Why? God, Eric, I am so sick of people trying to kill me,” she sighed, then looked up at him, pleading for answers. “I try to be a good woman. I’m nice to most people. I try to stay out of the way and do the right thing. Why do all of these people keep coming after me? I never did them any harm.”

       His arms came around her and he pressed her close. Per her request, he wasn’t trying to soothe or influence her through their bond, although she almost wished he would just so she would feel better. But she had to give him credit. He’d promised, and he was keeping his word.

       “Dear One, you are under my protection, and the protection of the Shreveport and Jackson Weres – as much as I hate to admit it. No one is going to get to you. I give you my word.”

       “I have Claudine too,” she added, leaning into him.

       He wasn’t soft or warm; he was hard and cool, but hard and cool had held her and cherished her, and it felt more normal to her than any soft and warm embrace from a human man. She breathed in and took in his scent. The blood he had given her had faded even if their bond hadn’t. Where before his blood had sharpened her senses, they had dulled without a new infusion of vampire blood, but she could still smell his unique scent.

       His hand stroked her hair, a human gesture of comfort that wouldn’t normally be in his repertoire, but she appreciated it nonetheless, and she allowed him to hold her. How many times had she wished for a man to simply comfort her? It was ironic that, once again, it was a 1000-year old Viking vampire who “got” her. Oh, she knew there were times when he’d missed the mark, or when his vamp brain got in the way of what she’d wanted him to do, but when it really counted, he’d never let her down once.

        _‘I could love this man,’_  she thought, then chased it back into its hole.

       Her hand came up and fisted into the softness of his sweater, her cheek nestled against his chest, and they stayed there until Eric slowly loosened his hold.

       “Would you like to play another game of pool?” he asked gently.

       “No.”

       “Would you like to go back to the cabin?”

       “Not yet.”

       She pulled back and craned her head to look up at him. “I read in the events flyer that there’s some kind of concert in the Great Room tonight.”

       He nodded. “Yes. A pianist will be performing.”

       “Lets go to that. At least for a little while. It’d be nice just to sit with you again and listen to some good music.”

       “If that is what you want,” he replied, but she could tell that he would rather have gone back to the cabin.

       “It’s not even 9 o’clock, Eric. There’s plenty of night left.”

       He seemed to consider her words and then agreed. “Yes, that’s true.”

       She turned and offered him her hand, and they walked side-by-side like two lovers on a date as they left the game room. And wasn’t that what they were? Two lovers on a 4-day long date set to allow them to figure each other and their relationship out? Once again, she marveled at Eric’s insight and deviousness. They would never have had the opportunities to talk and spend so much time together if they’d stayed in Louisiana.

       “What are you thinking?” he asked her as they climbed the main stairs.

       “That my boyfriend is a devious sneak,” she answered with a wry smile.

       “Ah.”

       He gave her a nervous glance, and she decided to let him off the hook. “And that if he wasn’t such a sneak, we wouldn’t be here enjoying ourselves.”

       He grinned and pecked her on the cheek. “Having fun then?”

       “Yeah, I guess I am. This place is really nice and so far, the company has been nice too. I like spending time with you when we aren’t worried about being killed or witches coming after us or fanatics blowing up our hotel.”

       His eyes lit up. “I like spending time with you no matter what is happening, and if there is the likelihood of fighting, it’s that much more fun.”

       “Oh yes, it’s so much more fun when you can swing a sword around and throw a vampire’s dismembered head across a room,” she said sarcastically.

       “Of course.”

       They were in the great room now and the concert had already started. A baby-grand piano had been set up to the left of the hearth on the stage, and a very tall, very thin man in a tuxedo was playing some classical tune she barely recognized. There were quite a few guests attending the performance, but nothing like the crowd that had been there last night. One of the leather sofas that occupied the room was empty so she guided Eric over to it, and they sat next to each other.

       As pianist continued his set, she leaned against Eric and he put an arm around her. She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder, happy when she heard his little noise of pleasure. For a moment, she could almost imagine spending night after night wrapped in his arms; could see him coming to pick her up for a movie or a dinner date. All regular, mundane things two people who were dating did together. She could almost forget that her boyfriend wasn’t breathing. In light of everything else, it seemed a minor detail.

       During one slow song, she turned her head to study his face. He was listening to the music, completely relaxed, and his handsome features showed no sign of age or tension. Once again, she marveled at what firelight did to his skin and hair, dancing in patterns of light and shadow across his face, lighting on his golden hair. Her eyes traveled down to where her hair was mingling with his, so close in color she could barely tell which locks were his and which were hers.

       He moved slightly and she caught him looking down at her, his blue eyes warm and happy. She smiled at him, and he smiled back, sweetly, lovingly even. He was a beautiful man, and this was a beautiful moment. She must have said her thoughts out loud, because his smile widened and he bent down to kiss her.

       “You are a beautiful woman.”

       “Thank you.”

       “I speak only the truth.”

       The heat in his eyes warmed her, and she took his hand as she moved to stand. “Let’s go back to the cabin.”

       “It would be my pleasure.”

       He’d put emphasis on the word “pleasure,” and it made her insides tingle. He helped her into her parka, then took her hand as he led her to the atrium and the exit to the lodge. As usual, it was biting cold and the wind hit her in the face.

       “Gah,” she complained, ducking down into her coat.

       Eric sniffed the wind. “Hm. Weather’s changing,” he commented as he gathered her up.

       “Huh. That’s what Izzy hinted at. She said she and Maria would leave tomorrow, weather permitting,” she noted, burrowing into his neck.

       “Izzy? Maria’s Izzy?” her vampire asked as he took to the air.

       “Yeah.”

       “When did you meet her?”

       “I’ll tell you when we get to the cabin,” she said, pressing her face even further into her hood. She was starting to believe Eric when he said the weather was changing; the wind had a new icy nip to it that made it even more of a slicing blade on her skin. A wisp of wind found its way into her coat and seared her down her back. She shuddered.

       “Almost there, lover,” she heard Eric promise, and sure enough, she felt him set down on the cabin porch less than a minute later.

       She uncurled herself as he opened the door and let out a sigh as Eric shut out the wind.

       “I’ll light the fire,” he offered.

       She nodded and peeled herself out of the parka, hanging it up by the door.

       “That reminds me, how did the fire get lit last night? It was already burning when we got here,” she said.

       “While you were seeing to your needs in the bathroom, I rushed back here and got it started,” he replied, already setting logs from the wood box into the hearth and lighting the tinder.

       Wow. She’d known vampires were quick, but that had been really, really quick even for him.

       She nodded that she’d understood and dug around in her jeans pocket for the business card Izzy had given her. She offered it to him as she moved to sit down on the sofa in front of the fire.

       “I ran into them in the game room this afternoon. I mentioned that you owned a bar, and that you might be interested in having them come play, so Izzy gave me their card.”

       He accepted the small rectangle of paper, a look of pride and pleasure on his face. “My lover, this is wonderful. Excellent quick thinking. I knew there was a reason I was so attracted to you.”

       She blushed under the praise and lowered her gaze. “It wasn’t just my good looks?” she teased.

       “My lover, I could have anyone I wanted. Looks matter very little to me, and you think on them too much.”

       He was sitting on the floor by the fire, and he reached up to pull her down next to him so he could give her a kiss and tuck her in next to his body.

       “But your business acumen has solved a problem for me,” he stated, far too smugly for her comfort. “I was trying to figure out how I could put you on Fangtasia’s payroll without you getting upset with me and thinking I was “keeping” you, since I know how much you don’t want to be kept. It’s no matter that I don’t feel that sharing my wealth with you diminishes you in any way, but you seem rather… touchy on the subject. Now I will make you Events Coordinator, and you can pull a base salary, claim a portion of the bar’s profits from ticket sales, and be eligible to enroll in our group health plan.”

       She was flabbergasted and it took a few moments for her mouth to work. “Eric, you can’t do that.”

       “Why not? I know you won’t accept monetary gifts from me, but this would be a job. You would earn your salary.”

       “Eric, I  ** _have_**  a job.”

       “I’m well aware of that. One that keeps you out late at night when all manner of dangerous people are out.”

       “Oh like you, running half naked and barefoot down my parish road at 3am.”

       “Yes, and you  ** _stopped_**  for me. That only serves to make my point.”

       “I only stopped for you because I knew who you were. I don’t make it a habit to pick up strange, half-naked vampires.”

       “That’s good to know. But you are missing my point. I want to be able to assist you financially because I know you need it. You will not accept anything you consider to be charity, so therefore I am giving you the opportunity to earn extra money. I would pay you the going rate, and you would have to work 10 to 15 hours a week.”

       “What would I do?”

       “Scout for local talent, book performers and oversee event preparations.”

       “Won’t I be taking work away from Pam?”

       “Pam hates dealing with artists. They tend to be… demanding. You, however, have the temperament to deal with any number of people. I remember how you handled that drunk human airman. I think you would be perfect for the job.”

       “Oh Eric, I don’t know…”

       “You should take my offer. You need the money and you need health care. Hospital bills in this age are unbelievable. And they call  ** _us_**  bloodsuckers,” he complained with a grimace.

       “Tell me about it… Hey, how do you know how much hospital bills cost these days?”

       He gave her a guilty look, and suddenly she knew how all her bills had been taken care of recently.

       “You paid my hospital bill.”

       She saw his face go rigid.

       “You did. When and which ones?” she demanded.

       “I’ve paid every bill since you got shot by that deranged shifter.”

       “Sweetie De Arts” she breathed.

       Eric snorted. “She was no sweetie,” he scoffed.

       “So you paid for when I got shot, and…”

       “And the emergency room bill for when you got attacked by that rising new vampire, although the queen reimbursed me for that.”

       “Wait a minute… Claudine told me she paid the bill for when I got shot,” she countered.

       “That is true, but I paid her back for it.”

       “Why?”

       He sighed, and she knew he was trying to decide on the right words to use. If he spouted some nonsense about her being his responsibility, she didn’t care about the lake, she was swimming back to Michigan.

       “Because… I… didn’t want anyone else taking care of you,” he finally said very carefully.

       “I’m not your responsibility, Eric,” she replied, her voice hard.

       “Of course not. But… I… wanted to be the one who… looked after you.”

       “So you could lord it over me later?”

       “No. I did those things anonymously. You would never have known about them if I hadn’t slipped tonight.”

       She wanted to argue. She wanted to be angry, but the truth was both he and Claudine had done her a great service. If she’d had to pay those bills, it would have just about bankrupted her, and she knew it. She ought to be gracious and accept the gifts because it was obvious Eric could easily afford it. Besides, she really, really didn’t want to fight with him.

       “Alright. Thank you,” she finally said.

       “You’re not mad at me?” He seemed surprised.

       She sighed and snuggled close. “I’m sure I will be… later.”

       She heard him chuckle and felt the arm around her tighten. “You are a proud woman. But then, I am a proud man. We will butt heads a lot, I think.”

       “I’m hoping we butt a lot more than heads,” she quipped, making him laugh.

       The fire was really going now, filling the room with its warmth and golden light. All the other lamps in the room were off, so the glow was the only illumination, and it was doing lovely things to Eric’s skin and hair again. He looked ethereal, every bit the Viking that he was, bathed in the soft light that made his white skin look alive and his hair blaze golden like a halo. He was so beautiful.

       She pressed closer, and Eric shifted a little so that their bodies were more comfortably entwined. She remembered that he liked to snuggle. That was probably because, where he came from, the only thing between you and freezing to death was your bed partner. Whatever the reason, she liked it because cuddling was one of her favorite things to do. Bill hadn’t been big on post-coital snuggling, or snuggling in general, but she remembered falling asleep draped across Eric’s chest or lying wrapped in his arms. He’d always made her feel so safe and cherished.

       “This is nice,” he said suddenly, after a few moments of comfortable silence.

       “Um-hmm,” she agreed.

       “It would be even nicer if we were naked.”

       She snickered. “You’d like that wouldn’t you.”

       “Oh yes. You’d like it too.”

       For all his suggestive talk, she noticed that he hadn’t moved his hands to back up his words.

_‘Hmm. Waiting for me to make the first move.’_

       “Ready for course four then?”

       He emitted the low rumble again, but with an added inflection that she translated to mean, “The ten minutes are up, and I am no longer sexually sated.” He followed that with a verbal, “I’m always ready.”

       “Don’t I know it,” she said with a wry smile, looking up at him. The fire was making his blue eyes glow, and she was feeling the urge to jump him, but she wanted to tease him first.

       “What if I say I’m not in the mood?”

       He frowned and shrugged. “Then we wait until you are. But… you do know I know when you’re bullshitting me, right, my lover?”

       She blushed and looked down, trying to hide her smile, then she slid her hand up his thigh. “Maybe I was just seeing if you would wait for me.”

       “I’ve been waiting for you for two years, lover.”

       He punctuated his words by tipping up her chin and bending down for a kiss, and then course four began.

       It was slow and sweet. Eric made a nest of pillows and blankets retrieved from the windowless room, and he made sure she was comfortable as he undressed her. He paid a great deal of attention to her breasts, licking and sucking gently, laving at her nipples until he had her panting and spreading her legs. Then he took his very talented mouth lower and licked and sucked her there, making her grasp at the blanket and arch her back. She writhed and begged, panting, her skin covered in a sheen of sweat, and she was absurdly jealous at her Viking’s self-control because, while she was ready to scream with frustration, he was cool and relaxed.

       He used his fingers as he licked her some more, then thrust them in and out slowly as he turned his head and fed from the artery on her inner thigh. She cried out and climaxed when he bit her, tangling her fingers in his hair and nearly ripping it out by the roots. If he didn’t take her in the next ten seconds, she was going to explode.

       “You liked it when I mounted you from behind. It excited you,” he whispered.

       All she could manage was an incoherent grunt because he was licking her again and still probing her with his fingers. They were wiggling, searching for her special spot, as his tongue lapped at her nub. She thought she might come again.

       “I liked it too. Seeing you kneeling before me, offering yourself to me, feeling your lust and anticipation. You wanted me to mount you. It pleased you very much to be claimed that way,” he continued, putting emphasis on the word “mount.” She shivered all over and let out a keening moan as he dipped his tongue further into her.

       “Hmmm. I think I’ve found one of your special triggers,” he mused.

       She didn’t care. All she wanted was for him to be inside her. Right. Now.

       “Shall I turn you over then? Pull you to your knees so I can slide behind you?”

       She groaned.

       “Or shall I leave you as you are, on your back, so I can look at you while I make you come?”

       “Eric!” she wailed.

       He laughed and crawled up her body, settling his hips between her legs. She hitched her legs up and grabbed for his butt, sinking her fingers into the firm, round cheeks, as he took her. He gave his own grunt and snarled something in a foreign language as he pushed in as far as he could go. He was braced on his hands, hovering over her, as she clamped her thighs around his pelvis and urged him on. He groaned again, his fangs fully out, and began to ride her in earnest. She climaxed, but he wasn’t with her, and he slipped one hand down to fondle her nub as he kept at it. She jerked and dug her nails into his ass, her eyes getting wider and wider, and his grin getting smugger and smugger, as he drove her to yet another climax.

       “Gotchya,” he said as she arched and came a third time, crying his name.

       A moment later, he made one last thrust and she felt him reach his own peak. He collapsed on top of her, and they rode out the aftershocks together, a trembling mass of tangled limbs. She could barely see or catch her breath, and she was going into overload. Tears began to leak from her eyes as she kept shuddering, her whole body quivering with muscle spasms that ran up and down her body. She couldn’t even get her wits together enough to speak.

       Eric supported himself with one arm to keep the majority of his weight off of her as the other began stroking her hair, murmuring endearments and words of comfort to soothe her, but all she could manage was gasping sobs. She couldn’t even give words to what she was feeling, only that it felt like she was coming apart, that her skin was being ripped from her body and all her insides exposed for him to see. He rolled off of her and gathered her into his arms, wrapping her in the blankets and holding her together because she didn’t seem capable of doing it herself.

       His chest rumbled under her cheek, vibrating at a low frequency that she felt rather than heard, yet the action comforted her, and it took her a moment to realize that he was singing very softly in a deep guttural voice. It was more a hum, actually, that started with a word then extended out into a low croon, and she focused on it, listened to the croon with every fiber of her being, until she slowly settled back into her own skin and put herself back together.

       “Better now?” he murmured when she finally stopped shivering.

       “I… I think so,” she stammered.

       “Good.”

       She didn’t answer, but remained quiet and still in his arms. He loosened his hold on her and let the blanket fall away, and she curled into the curve of his body, her head on his chest and her legs entwined with his. He took to caressing her lightly with the tips of his fingers, brushing along her arm and the rise of her hip.

       “The firelight does beautiful things to your skin,” he breathed.

       She smiled, curling her fingers into the soft down of his chest hair. He had no heartbeat, but yet she knew she had seen the heart inside him.

       “I could say the same about you,” she answered.

       “I look forward to seeing your skin by firelight as often as possible.”

       “I have two roomies, remember? Octavia and Amelia,” she reminded.

       “And I have a fireplace at my house,” he countered slyly.

       “A fireplace and a sauna. What else do you have?”

       “Well, I have the usual things: kitchen, den, living room, and of course a bedroom with a very big bed.” She could imagine the leer on his face as he said the last.

       She sighed. “I’m sure I’ll see it soon.”

       “Hrmm. Thursday night, perhaps?”

       She chuckled. “I’ll have to check my schedule, see when I’m working.”

       “Hrmph. Forgive me if I am not happy with being dependent upon a shifter for time with you.”

       “I’m a working girl. Deal with it.”

       “Do I have a choice? You modern women are all for making your own decisions.” He sounded beleaguered. “Will you take the job I offered?”

       “I’ll consider it.” It would be nice to have the extra cash, and she certainly needed health care.

       “That is more than I expected. I had anticipated a much more prolonged argument.”

       “Hey, I’m learning that there’s no arguing with you,” she quipped.

       She could tell that the statement had pleased him because happiness echoed through the bond.

       “Truly? Does that mean you’ll quit your job and move in with me?”

       “Not a chance,” she said coldly, making him laugh.

       She laughed too, and it felt good. She found that she liked pleasing him, and the feeling between them was almost as close and tender as it had been when he’d been cursed. Right now everything was wonderful. The easy rapport between them was almost back, the comfortable familiarity that grew when two people were relaxed and content with each other.

       She liked this part of a relationship: the newness, the happiness before the shine wore off. It felt really, really good, but she’d been there before, and she wondered how long it would take for it all to go to hell. She frowned, remembering how quickly Bill had lost interest in her before he went haring off after Lorena.

       “What are you thinking, my lover?” Eric questioned, a note of concern in his voice. “Your lovely mood has soured again.”

       “I’m… I’m just wondering how long this will last,” she admitted.

       “Until Wednesday night. Unless you would like to stay longer. I am sure I could arrange it…”

       “No. No. I meant this: you and me. How long before you get tired of me and start looking for other partners,” she clarified.

       He was silent, and she ventured a glance up to look at his face. It was hard as stone.

       “I mean… Bill and I only lasted a few months…” she began, running an idle finger across his chest.

       “I could kill him for what he did to you. I would love to kill him, but that would make you unhappy, and I do not want to be the cause of that,” he finally said, his voice frigid.

       “No… I don’t want you to kill him,” she agreed.

       “If there should ever come a time when you change your mind, let me know. He is one of my subjects; he is beholden to me as his sheriff, therefore his life is mine to do with as I wish. He has already broken pact with me twice. Theoretically his life is forfeit. The only reason I haven’t killed him already is because he was doing the queen’s bidding, and killing him would make you unhappy. Still, I could have punished him for what he did, but I did not – also because it would have displeased you,” he told her, explaining a few things about vampire politics that she pretty much already knew, but it was nice to get confirmation.

       “And he makes a lot of money,” she added.

       He snorted. “Money isn’t everything.”

       Odd how his words echoed Sophie-Anne’s on the night Andre killed the King of Arkansas, and she said so. Eric made no comment, but she felt the pang through the bond. Eric had liked Sophie-Anne; feared her, but liked her as well. She didn’t know how long Eric had been one of her subjects, but it was at least since before the vampires went public. He’d known her fairly well, it seemed, and he respected her. Now with her gone, and Felipe as the new King of Louisiana, everything was turned upside down, and their lives hung in the balance.

       She could understand Eric’s uneasiness. Her life was mixed up in all of that not only because of her blood-bond to Eric, but because Felipe knew of her little handicap. She had no illusions that the King wouldn’t make her do his bidding should he see fit to call on her. He also knew how strong her blood-bond with Eric was because he had seen it in action on the night Sigebert had captured them. Part of her knew, if she was smart, she and Eric would be relocating to Alaska to get as far away from Felipe de Castro as possible. Eric had already said he’d give everything up, and he’d admitted to having to run for his life in the past. Maybe it was time to get out of Dodge while they still could.

       It was a big decision to make; to leave everything she knew behind to go running off with a 1000-year old Viking vampire – especially of things went sour after a few months. She had no idea how long a typical human-vampire relationship lasted because the ones she’d seen were all obviously short-term or badly flawed. Hugo and Isabel came to mind.

       “You didn’t answer my question, though,” she began carefully, already feeling his unhappiness through the bond. “I mean, I’ll be turning 28 next year and…”

       “And that will mean exactly what to me? You think I will lose interest in you when you start to age, that I am attracted only to your beauty and having sex with you?” he interrupted sharply.

       “Well… it is a big part of what we do and I know I’m…”

       “I can have sex with anyone I want, whenever I want. If all I wanted was sex, I would not have gone through any of the trouble to pursue you and care for you. You do me a great disservice when you suggest that I am fickle and petty,” he scolded.

       A tear leaked from her eye at the harsh rebuke, and she tucked her head into his arm, sniffling.

       “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

       “I blame Bill. He was the one who hurt you so badly that now you compare our relationship to the one you had with him. But you must understand and accept that  ** _I am not Bill_** , lover, and I am as different from Bill in my relationships as oil is to water. Once I have chosen, I am faithful until the relationship ends. I will  ** _not_**  go haring off after another woman or she-demon as long as you and I are committed to each other.”

       “So you’re not going to go running off to fuck a vamp-ho even if she is your maker?” she asked, trying to deflect his anger.

       “My maker is dead,” he stated.

       “Oh. I’m… I’m sorry.”

       “Don’t be. It’s a relief to know no one has that much power over me.”

       Eric  _would_  frame it in terms that dictated the effect things would have on his life. She wondered how much power  _she_  had over  _him_ , and was half-afraid to broach the subject. Instead she pressed closer, cupping her hand across his side and curling her leg around his. He seemed to enjoy the movement and his hand caressed her breast lightly.

       “You are trying to distract me, are you not?” he said teasingly. “I know you are not interested in sex again so soon.”

       He took her hand and guided it lower, allowing her to feel him. He was half-interested, but that could easily change in a moment.

       “Me, of course, I am ready whenever you are,” he purred.

        _‘Yeah, five times in one night.’_  Not even her wildest nights with Bill had they ever gotten close to that many, and her longest night with Amnesia Eric had only had them having sex two and a half times, since she went down on him the third time. Was the difference now the fact that they’d swapped blood again, and now her libido was more in-sync with his?

       But how long would that last? A few years? A decade or two? She’d be thirty before too long. She’d never given her age much thought, but if her lover was a vampire, that threw the whole growing old together argument right out the window. What would he do when she was old and couldn’t keep up anymore?

       Her vampire let out a frustrated growl, and she knew he was onto her bad mood.

       “What are you thinking now?” he commanded softly.

       “The same thing,” she admitted. It was no good to lie to him.

       “Bill’s unfaithfulness? Our relationship?” he pressed.

       “Me. Getting older. Let’s face it, Eric, I’m mortal. I’m gonna get old and grey and I’m not gonna want to have sex with you. What will you do then?” Her voice was slightly accusing because she didn’t like being put on the spot.

       He sighed and his grip on her tightened, but not enough to cause her any pain.

       “Bill told you nothing of vampire-human relations, did he?”

       It was almost a snarl, but his ire wasn’t directed at her.

       “Only that I would need to take vitamins to help replace the blood he took, and that he’d know how I was feeling and stuff after we shared blood,” she answered, getting the feeling that her ex had kept something very important from her.

       Eric’s anger increased, and she was very glad they were on an island in Lake Superior, because she was sure, if they’d been anywhere near Bon Temps, Bill would have been facing a  ** _very_**  pissed off Eric before the night was over.

       She felt him struggling to get control over his temper, and she let him soothe himself by stroking her with his fingers again, the touch seeming to ground him and help him focus. It took him several moments, but he finally calmed down, and she felt him let out a deep sigh before he relaxed.

       “Sookie… what Bill failed to mention to you, although I can only fathom his reasons for why he did not, is that as long as we are together you will age very slowly. My blood will keep you healthy, and prevent much of the effects of time on your body, so long as you have a fresh infusion of it on a regular basis. What you fear will come about in only a few years, will take many decades, and forgive me if I hope that you will decide to join me by then.”

       She gasped and lifted her head enough to look at him, horrified. “Join you? As in, become a vampire?”

       He met her gaze without a blink or flinch. “Yes.”

       “Eric! I don’t want to be a vampire.” How could he think such a thing? Didn’t he know her at all?

       He shrugged. “Not now. Not next year. Maybe not even for fifty years or more. But I do hope that – one day – you will change your mind and let me bring you over.”

       “Eric, I will  ** _never_**  want to be a vampire!”

       “You don’t know that. You are young now. Vibrant and healthy. Who knows how you will feel as time goes on.”

       “I know that I will never want to be anything other than  ** _human!_** ”

       She hopped to her feet, snarling to herself when her legs went shaky, and she forced herself to stand. He propped himself up on his elbows, but did not otherwise attempt to stop her.

       “I can’t believe that you’d think I’d even consider such a thing!” she accused.

       He blinked at her, but did not look ashamed or contrite. “As I said, right now I know that you don’t want me to bring you over, but…”

       That only served to make her angrier, and she was getting herself whipped up into a good froth. “ ** _No!_**  No buts! Never! You have to promise me, Eric! You have to promise that you’ll never bring me over, that no matter what, you’ll never make me a vampire.”

       “I can’t do that,” he refused with a shake of his head.

       “What do you mean  ** _you can’t do that?_** ”

       “If you make me promise, then I will have to keep my word, even if forty years from now you are begging me to bring you over,” he answered reasonably.

       “Forty years! Eric, I’m not going to be with you for more than another forty  ** _hours!_** ” she screamed, clenching her fists. “If we weren’t on this damn island, you wouldn’t be seeing me for more than another forty  ** _minutes!_**  Damn you! You brought me to this godforsaken place so I couldn’t run away from you!”

       He raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by her rage, and he gave her a smug look that told her that was  ** _exactly_**  what he’d done and he was proud of it. She wanted to slap the look right off his face, but instead she tried to kick him in the groin. He was faster, though, and turned his hip so she got him in the thigh. It smarted, but nowhere near as much as it would have if she’d been on target.

       What the kick did do, however, was serve to make her Viking very angry. His blue eyes blazed, and his features turned blank and hard. She’d seen his angry face before, but never directed at her so fiercely. Part of her was screaming that she was being incredibly stupid, and she was going to get herself killed, but the rest of her was too furious to care.

       “Now, Sookie,” he warned. “You’re acting like a child.”

       “A child?! How dare you! You’re the one who dragged me here. You’re the one forced me into this! I never wanted to be blood-bound to you! I never wanted to get dragged into your vampire shit! I never wanted any of this!”

       “You’d rather have been bound to Andre then?” he countered.

       “No! I’d rather I’d never gotten involved with Bill! I wish I’d never met you! Any of you! You’ve done nothing but bring misery and pain and heartache into my life!”

       “Is that how you really feel?” he questioned, his brows drawn and his mouth arching down into a deep frown.

       “ ** _Yes!_**  I hate you! I wish I’d let Sigebert  ** _kill_**  you so I’d be rid of you!” she seethed.

       No physical blow could have hurt him more, and she felt the barb land home. It arced through the bond, a lancing pain that burned like fire all the way down. He showed no outward signs of his agony, but she knew what she’d felt, and it made her pause in mid-tirade.

       He stood slowly, still naked and glowing in the firelight. She watched him, breathing heavily, wondering if he would now smash her skull like Betty Jo killed that stupid human in Club Dead, but he did not raise a hand to her. If anything, that made it worse. Physical pain would have been better than what he actually did.

       Running on the heels of the stabbing pain came something that felt like a kick in the gut, followed by the opening of a gaping hole inside her. He’d cut off the bond again, only this time he’d done it while conscious. She stared at him, knowing how her face must look, gasping as the pain of the severing ripped into her, how her soul screamed in protest. His face was impassive, his eyes blank, as he regarded her silently.

        _‘You are dead to me now,’_  came the thought. Was it him? Was it her own mind interpreting the flat expression on his face? She didn’t know, and she couldn’t find it in her to care as the cold void began to throb.

       She gripped her chest, unable to block out the ache, and sank to her knees. She felt a rush of air, and she thought Eric was going to embrace her, to tell her how sorry he was for hurting her, but he did no such thing. Instead he’d gone past her, presumably to the windowless room. A few moments later she saw him again, fully dressed, and striding purposefully towards the cabin door. She made a little sound of pain, a strangled “guh” noise that took all the effort she had. He paused and turned his head to look at her, but there was no recognition in his eyes, no spark of feeling or regret. She wanted to stop him, because she knew what he was going to do, but she couldn’t make her body work. With one last cold, dispassionate look, he opened the cabin door and walked out, closing the door firmly behind him.

       His leaving snapped something inside her, and she crumpled to the carpet, shaking. She was cold all over, but the chill came from within, not from the rush of frigid air he’d allowed to blow in when he’d opened the door, and she lay there on the rug for god knew how long before the pain numbed enough for her to be able to move. In that time, she had the opportunity to consider her complete stupidity, and the magnitude of what she had done. Of course she didn’t want to be a vampire, and it was important for Eric to understand that, but she imagined that she could have handled the situation a whole lot better. She’d lost her temper, said horrible, unforgivable things to someone she really  ** _did_**  care a great deal about, someone who had not deserved the hateful words she’d flung at him, someone who – she had to admit – loved her.

       She wanted him to come back. She wanted to apologize, to tell him she didn’t want him dead, that she’d spoken in anger and fear, but there was no way for her to reach him. The bond was gone so no amount of mental “come back, come back, come back” was going to reach him, and she knew she didn’t have the strength to go looking for him out in the cold.

       She managed to stagger to her feet and fumble like a marionette with three strings cut, up the stairs to the loft where she crawled into the bed and curled into a fetal ball. The pain was worse than when Bill left her for Lorena, worse than when she’d found out he’d been sent by the queen to seduce her. Those wounds were superficial scratches compared to the rending tear that left her heart bleeding and agony seeping from every pore.

       She lay there, buried under the eiderdown – although the heavy comforter did nothing to warm her – trying to stay as still as possible because it didn’t hurt as much if she didn’t move, and she forced herself to stay awake, to listen for Eric’s return. It took a while for the pain to dull enough for the tears to come, but they eventually did, and she sobbed into the pillows, feeling wretched and miserable.

       She cried for a long time, cursing Eric, and Bill, and Jason, and Sam, and Alcide, and Andre, (even though he was dead) and Quinn, and everyone who had ever wronged her all the way down to her parents who’d had the crappy luck to get themselves killed in a flash flood. And she cursed herself for her dumb mouth, and for all the things she regretted.

       When she was all cried out, she was calmer and more able to look at the situation clearly. Eric’s statement about his blood slowing down her aging, and his desire for her to become a vampire had spooked her, and she’d lashed out. She’d said some terrible, hurtful things that she hadn’t meant, and the very least she ought to do was tell Eric how much she regretted her words and how awful she felt for saying them. Which, considering he was somewhere out on the island, was difficult at best.

       She pulled herself together enough to make her way back down the stairs and scribble a note to him on the back of the weekly events schedule.

        _Eric-_

_I’m sorry. We need to talk._

_Sookie_

       She shoved the note under the door of the windowless room, hoping he’d find it when he came back ( ** _if_**  he came back, but she wasn’t even considering the fact that he might have flown off the island under his own power and just left her there.) then she made her way back up to the bedroom. She dressed in a long, cotton nightgown and got back into bed, lying on her back and listening to the wind outside the windows. It was whipping through the trees and howling like a beast in mourning, or maybe she  _was_  hearing something in mourning wailing out there somewhere in the forest. She couldn’t be sure.

       She stayed awake, keeping her eyes open and her mind focused on hearing Eric come back, until exhaustion caught up with her. Sleep reached up to grab her and drag her down no matter how hard she found against it, and her last conscious memory was of how cold and empty the bed seemed without Eric there to hold her.

 


	11. Chapter Eleven

_Chapter Eleven_

       When she woke, the room was unusually dark for the time displaying on the clock. She thought it was just her eyes at first, since they felt like sand had been tossed into them, and they were sore and puffy. She looked at the clock again and noted that it still read 11:24 with the little dot next to the “am” lit. So, according to the clock, it was almost noon, but the ambient light in the room was nothing like it had been the previous morning.

        _‘Maybe it’s black out there to reflect my mood,’_  she thought dourly.

       She still felt awful, her chest aching painfully, but she did notice that Eric’s presence was back in the bond. That meant he was back. He must not have been able to keep it cut off while he was unconscious during the day. Somehow, that was a relief.

       She pushed back the eiderdown and got out of bed. She was moving slowly because she felt as if someone had beaten her up, and she pulled on her robe, securing it around her waist as she went to the dark curtains that shielded the doors to the balcony. She pulled them aside enough to peer out and was greeted by a world of white.

       It was snowing. Snowing heavily, and, judging by the amount of snow already piled up on the balcony, it looked like it had been snowing for a while. It was coming down so hard that she could barely make out the forest, and she gasped, her eyes opening wide.

       She’d never seen so much snow in her life, and she had nightmares of being snowed in with a hungry vampire. But then she realized how silly that seemed. It wasn’t like they were alone in the wilderness. Even if she couldn’t see it right now, she knew the lodge was close by, and Eric could get there at the very least once he woke up. Besides, Eric loved snow, and he would probably be overjoyed to see so much of it.

       She started to cry again, tears sliding down her cheeks as she sagged against the wall. Even if Eric was back, she could still feel his pain in the bond, and it was making her feel horrible. And, she acknowledged, it was her fault that they both were hurting so badly. If she hadn’t lost her temper and shot off with her big mouth, none of it would have happened. So she had no one to blame but herself.

       She stumbled over to the dresser to pull out a pair of socks. Part of her wanted to just get back in bed and stay there until sunset, but she needed to check on Eric and the books she had borrowed were down there too. Reaching into the top drawer, her hand brought out a pair of thick, warm socks that had also been a gift from Eric. She had found two pairs stuffed inside the new boots he’d bought her. At the sight of them, she started to cry again, but pulled herself together enough to put them on and force herself to walk towards the stairs.

       She eased herself down the stairs, her body aching, and made it to the first floor. The fire had gone out in the hearth, and the lower level was dark and chilly. She fumbled around and found a lamp to turn on, then found the thermostat, punching the set temperature up to 70 degrees from 62. Brrrrr. The furnace came on, and she soon felt warm air blowing in through the vents.

       The door to the windowless room was closed as she had expected it to be when she finally made it over to the dining room, but it was also locked – something she hadn’t expected. It also looked like he’d thrown the dead bolt on it as well because it was very firmly secured from the inside. In a way that was good news because it meant he was in there, but bad news in that he may have trusted her enough to come back to the cabin, but hadn’t trusted her enough to leave himself vulnerable to her. There was nothing she could do until sundown except wait.

       Staggering back to the living room, she found that she didn’t have the energy to go back up to bed. Instead, she flopped down on the sofa and stared at the fireplace. At some point the wood box next to the hearth had been refilled. Given that they’d used most of the wood last night, that meant Eric had had the forethought to restock sometime before he’d gone to bed. So she had a heat source if something happened to the furnace. It was just like him to be thinking of her even when she’d just ripped his heart out.

       She sat on the sofa for a few minutes, resisting the urge to go curl up against the door to Eric’s room and make him step over her when he rose. She didn’t do it. That would be childish. She did resolve to get herself up long enough to make some coffee, so she forced herself to stand and shuffle over to the kitchen.

       She found it stocked with everything except food; there was, however, the requisite coffee pot and single pot bags of coffee – Arabica dark roast and “breakfast blend,” half-n-half creamers, and sweetener packets (4 kinds – sugar, Equal, Sweet n’Low and Splenda.) She also found a basket of tea bags, small single serving packets of honey, and hot cocoa mix. Today was  _definitely_  a hot cocoa day. She’d make some later, but right now she needed coffee. Coffee would help her think more clearly, or at least she hoped so.

       All drip coffee makers worked pretty much the same so it didn’t take her long to figure out the fancy one sitting on the counter. It was one of those combo units she’d seen at Starbucks, the kind that made fancy, expensive coffee that city folk seemed to love so much, but it had a “regular” coffee pot side, and it wasn’t too hard to find where the grinds went and where to fill the reservoir. Pretty soon she had a hot cup of coffee steaming in the plain, white stoneware mug that the cabin came stocked with, and she took it back to the living room with her.

       It took a lot of her energy, but she managed to lay a fire in the fire grate and get it lit. There was a throw blanket draped across the back of the sofa, and she pulled it down to wrap around her legs as she curled up in one corner of the sofa, clutching her coffee mug in one hand and reaching for one of the paperbacks on the side table with the other. Her exploration of the kitchen while looking for a mug had yielded a box of Kleenex, so she had those too. Judging by how she couldn’t seem to stop crying, that was a good thing.

       She’d just managed to staunch the latest waterworks when the power blipped out. She wasn’t expecting the sudden loss of light or silence, and she jerked at first before she realized it was just a blackout. Oh, great. Just what she needed. Now she was alone, miserable,  ** _and_**  in the dark. But, she reasoned, that she had heat, and coffee, and she had a book. All she was missing was food, but she wouldn’t starve in the next eight hours so she wasn’t worried. At least now she knew why she’d found candles and a hurricane lamp in the cupboards.

       There was still enough daylight coming in from the windows for her to navigate into the kitchen and get the hurricane lamp. It was full of lamp oil, and there was a refill jug in the cabinet with it incase she needed it. She lit the lamp with the provided Bic lighter and took it back to the living room. She was glad she’d made the coffee before the power went out, but the stove was gas so if she wanted to heat it up, she could always just pour the pot into a saucepan and turn on the burner.

       She went back to the living room and settled on the sofa again, her legs curled under her and the throw blanket draped over her lower body. It was as close to comfortable as she was going to get, and she tried to content herself with knowing she was safe and secure even if there was a blizzard raging outside.

       All was quiet for a while. She read, she cried, she stared at the fire, she might have napped, but she wasn’t sure and it was hard to tell how much time had passed. It took her a moment to figure out that what had snapped her out of her gloom had been a knock at the door. The last time she’d checked, it was still snowing so she had no idea who could be outside.

        _‘It’s us. Can we come in?’_  came Izzy’s mindvoice.

        _‘Just a second…’_  she answered, uncurling herself and realizing that her legs were stiff and numb.

       Still wondering why anyone would be out in the storm instead of cozy inside, she stood up and shuffled over to open the door. Outside was a sea of frozen white, but part of the snow on the porch had been melted away. She stepped aside as she swung open the door to admit the three people standing there, and Izzy, Maria and her son rushed in so she could shut out the cold as soon as possible.

       “Gah!” she gasped, shivering, as she turned to face her guests.

       “I see the power’s out here too. We’re over in Cabin 18 and… Holy Crap what happened to  ** _you?_** ” Izzy blurted, her eyes wide.

       Maria gasped and covered her mouth in horror, then rushed at her, her hands out in concern. “Oh my God, what happened?”

       “Wow,” the boy said, his face surprised as he stared at her.

       She took a step back in alarm, looking around her as she tried to see what had gotten them so upset. “What? What is it?”

       She knew she looked awful, but they were acting like she was bleeding from a huge wound in her head.

       Maria grabbed her wrist. “Who did this to you? You must report it immediately! Security must know someone’s been attacked on the island!”

       “Attacked?” she repeated, confused and frightened.

       “There’s a hole the size of Dallas in your aura and your bond is frayed,” Izzy clarified, but her voice was full of rage.

       “Who did this to you? I’ll report it if you don’t want to. This kind of thing isn’t supposed to happen here,” Maria said, then turned to her son. “Vincent! Run to the lodge. Tell security to come to Cabin 16 right away! There’s been a psychic assault.”

       “No. Wait. Stop. It’s not like that,” she insisted, trying to pull out of Maria’s grasp. She was too weak, but they did stop.

       “You know who did this to you?” Maria questioned.

       She nodded, the tears starting again. “It… it was Eric. We…”

       “Your  _bonded_  did this to you? Where is he?” the Gypsy asked in disbelief.

       She cast a miserable glance at the bolted door in the dining room, and Izzy headed for it.

       “You can’t get in. It’s locked,” she warned, but the woman put one hand on the door and then blipped out of sight.

       “Oh,” she gasped, but a jerk on her arm brought her back to Maria.

       “What happened?” Maria commanded.

       “It’s all my fault. We had a terrible fight and he… and he… He tried to sever us. I think…” she stammered, more tears falling. Why couldn’t she stop crying?

       “That’s my assessment too,” Izzy interrupted, blinking back into the room. Sookie jumped when the woman was suddenly just there again.

       “He’s in there. His aura’s in worse shape than hers. It looks like he tried to rip the bond out, and it’s half severed on his end.” Izzy gave her a suspicious look. “It’s a good thing he didn’t know what he was doing, otherwise you’d both be in shock right now.”

       “How did you do that? You went right through a closed door,” she squeaked.

       Izzy shrugged. “I can Jump if I know where I’m going. Your cabin is a mirror image of ours, only Sparky’s room has windows in it. I figured it was set up the same so I just Jumped to the other side of the door,” she answered as if that explained everything.

       “Jump?”

       “That doesn’t matter,” Maria interrupted. “What matters is what happened and how to fix it. You said you had an argument. It must have been terrible for your bonded to have reacted so severely.”

       “That’s an understatement. Right now, they’re going to need to do another blood exchange to re-anchor the bond, otherwise who knows what other damage this’ll do,” Izzy said, giving her a look that said she’d better well swap body fluids with Eric and she wasn’t talking about spit.

       She sagged, almost all of her energy gone, and Izzy rushed forward to support her and keep her from falling.

       “Are you in much pain?” Maria asked gently as she was guided back to the sofa.

       She put a hand on her chest. “It’s not as bad as it was,” she admitted, which just meant that she wasn’t in screaming agony anymore.

       “Well, that’s something,” Maria conceded.

       “Last night must have been a barrel of laughs,” Izzy commented sarcastically.

       She gave the woman a withering glare, but Izzy just rolled her eyes. “There’s a reason why suicide is the biggest cause of death in left behinds. Most survivors of a strongly bonded pair kill themselves within the first year of losing their mate because they never recover from the severing of the bond. My guess is you got a taste of what’s in store for you last night.”

       She looked away, clutching the robe closer to her body, but shivering nonetheless.

       “If it’s any consolation, he wasn’t doing any jigs last night either,” Izzy added.

       “You saw him?” she asked, surprised.

       She wondered if he’d gone to the lodge. Maybe he’d gotten himself drunk on fairly blood, but if he had, then he would have had to work off his “excess excitement” with someone else because he certainly hadn’t crawled into bed with her. The very thought made her stomach heave and more tears fall.

       “No, but from the ragged look of him, he had a  _very_  bad night,” Izzy answered.

       “Oh.” She looked down at her feet. At least he hadn’t gone out and fucked some stranger.

       Maria’s hand on her shoulder brought her out of her thoughts, and she tried to muster up something other than misery.

       “I don’t know what to do,” she sniffed.

       “It will be all right. We will help you. I will play for you, and it will bring you comfort,” Maria assured her. “Vincent, go back to our cabin and fetch Rosamun please?”

       “Sure, Mom.”

       The boy was gone before Sookie could say anything, back out into the snowy cold. “Will he be okay?” she asked.

       “Pfft. The kid’s dad is a Fire Demon. He doesn’t get cold. His normal core body temp is 103. Trust me, Sparky’s fine, and it’ll do him some good to work off some excess energy,” Izzy answered.

       “How long do you think the power will be out?” she questioned. It was easy for her to focus on the present, on the problem she had to deal with right now, namely the storm and the power outage. It kept her from falling to pieces again.

       “Dunno. There’s emergency generators over at the lodge, but no emergency power for the cabins. Demons in general don’t really need electricity. It’s us humans who are so dependent upon it,” Izzy replied.

       “This storm must have come out of nowhere. I don’t remember anything like this being forecasted,” she complained.

       “It’s a lake effect storm. They can develop at any time,” Maria explained.

       “Are we going to get snowed in?”

       Izzy laughed. “Honey, snowed in is when you open the front door and the snow falls in on your head. This’ll dump only about 18 inches or so on us, and these people are well used to the wacky weather. We’ll be fine.”

       “Eighteen inches,” she choked.

       “Maybe even two feet if the wind blows the right way,” Izzy amended.

       There was a knock at the door, making her jump. Maria patted her hand and gave a look to Izzy, who went to open the door. At first she thought it was Vincent getting back with whatever he’d been sent to get, but a huge, gray-skinned, black-haired hulk of a man came in instead. He had to be a Supe. There was no way this guy was human.

       “I have come for you,” he said in a deep voice that made the willies go down her spine all the way to her toes.

       “Uh…” she said.

       “What’s this about?” Izzy demanded.

       “I have been instructed to collect the humans and bring them to the lodge.”

       He was so tall he’d had to duck to come through the doorway, and now his presence filled the room. She struggled to her feet, despite Maria’s protests, and managed to go over to him. The two women put themselves in front of her, acting as human shields, and she wasn’t too sure what to think of that.

 _‘Stay behind us. We’ll handle this,’_  Izzy told her.

       “Why have you been instructed to collect us?” Maria asked.

       He straightened up stiffly and puffed out his considerable chest. “Humans are fragile and must be looked after.”

       If he hadn’t been so serious about it, she might have burst out laughing, but she bit her cheek instead. Izzy was faster with the comeback.

       “Really? That’s good to know. I wished I’d known that 30 years ago when I was learning to walk, but, honestly, what’s your point?”

       The man seemed surprised and flustered. “There is a storm outside. You have no lights.”

       “We kinda noticed that. And see, we humans have gathered together in a little huddled group to take care of each other until the storm is over. That’s what we do when there aren’t any big, Corsian demons running around to fetch us.”

       Vincent slipped back in through the front door, carrying a violin case. He grinned at her. He wasn’t even wearing a coat.

       “Really, Sir, we’re fine. We have heat and the hurricane lamps your resort was so generous to provide,” Maria added. “And we have water and coffee…”

       “Don’t forget the hot chocolate too,” Vincent piped up.

       “But you have no food,” he pointed out, clearly confused by their reluctance to leave.

       “My friend can Apparate,” Maria said gently. “She can Jump to the lodge and bring back a food basket if the kitchen manager would be kind enough to make one up for us. Is the storm expected to last much past sunset?”

       “The weather predictors say it will end after nightfall but before midnight,” came the gruff answer.

       Maria looked at her watch. “Well, that gives us at most eleven hours before it’s all over. I’m assuming the custodial staff is working on restoring power?”

       He nodded stiffly. “Yes.”

       “Okay then, I am sure we’ll have power soon, and even if we don’t, we’re all right without it.”

       The Supe looked at her and furrowed his brow. “What is wrong with her? Is she ill?”

 _‘Stay calm and keep your mouth shut. A dimwit like this can’t see auras, so he won’t know what’s wrong unless you tell him. We want to keep this quiet because your bonded basically attacked your bond. I know he did it to both of you, but that sort of thing is really frowned upon here, and we don’t want Resort Management to get involved,’_  Izzy warned her.

 _‘Okay,’_ she answered, putting a hand on the woman’s shoulder for support. It was getting harder to stand.

       Izzy crossed her arms. “She’s blood-bonded to a vampire. What do you  _think_  is wrong with her?”

       “All the better for her to come to the lodge where it is warm and there is food,” the Supe responded.

       “And have her bonded come looking for her right after sunset? He’s going to be hungry when he rises. He’ll just drag her back here through the storm,” Izzy reminded. “It’s better if she just stays where she is. Besides, she’d feeling a little… drained.”

       She did her best to look wan and pale. It wasn’t too hard. But it was clear that the guy was conflicted, and she wasn’t sure if he would accept their reasoning. She had no desire to go out in the storm, and she was trying to think of more excuses for her to stay put, but Maria beat her to it.

       “We understand. You have been given orders, and we are making it difficult for you to fulfill your duties. My friend can go back to the lodge with you and get the food basket if that will fulfill your obligation to your supervisor.”

       He seemed to consider Maria’s suggestion, his face showing his indecision, until he finally nodded. “It is acceptable, but we will not be responsible for your welfare if you choose to stay here.”

       She almost breathed a sigh of relief, and she started to sag again, but Maria slipped a hand under her elbow to bolster her up.

       “We’ll be fine. Now c’mon, Lurch, let’s you and me go back to the lodge, and I can explain to Raimis how all of this isn’t your fault. It’s just us pesky humans being difficult again,” Izzy said with a wry smile.

       “Yes,” the man agreed, not seeming to understand that Izzy had just insulted him.

       “I’ll be back in a few. Keep the home fires burnin’.”

       “Be safe,” Maria said, waving a little as Izzy guided the big hulk back out the door. She giggled as soon as they were gone and rolled her eyes, smiling. “I love them dearly, but sometimes…”

       “They really show their age,” she offered, managing a weak smile back.

       “Exactly. It baffles them that humans ever managed to take over this world. It defies their logic completely,” the Gypsy admitted, reaching out to ruffle her son’s hair.

       “Hey, don’t look at me. Dad can’t figure it out either,” Vincent quipped, then grinned and handed his mother the violin case.

       “Thank you,” Maria said, smiling as she accepted the instrument.

       “You called the violin something…” she began.

       “Rosamun,” Maria confirmed, guiding her back towards the couch. “Every good violin has a name. This one is Rosamun.” She patted the hard case lovingly. “She has been in my family for generations. I inherited her from my grandfather, who got her from his father, who got her from his father and so on. Where she originally came from is a mystery, but experts place her at about two hundred years old. Family history tells that she was a wedding gift given to my great-great-great-great-grandfather from his father-in-law.”

       Sookie smiled. She could appreciate old things and family history. “That’s really wonderful. You must be very proud to have her.”

       “I am. Typically, she would have gone to a male heir, but my brother wanted nothing to do with music, or Grandfather for that matter, so he gifted Rosamun to me.”

       Maria had said the last with a small, sad smile on her face. Sookie understood that look too.

       “Well. Izzy will be back soon and I will cook us some food. You need to eat. You’re losing a lot of energy into the damaged bond. It’s trying to repair itself, but it’s draining you in the process,” the Gypsy said. “And the security guard was right. We should take all precautions in this storm. November gales like this one are notoriously unpredictable. It’s better that we are all together, at least until the worst of it is over and the power’s back on. In the meantime, why don’t you go up and get dressed? After that, we will see what is to be done about the situation between you and your bonded.”

       She almost refused, her pride getting the best of her, but she stopped herself in time. Even if this woman was a veritable stranger, Sookie knew what she could do, and she admitted that she did need help. She as out of her league with this blood-bond thing, and these two women seemed to know quite a bit more about it than she did. Plus, she didn’t really have anyone she could talk to about what was going on between her and Eric, and the vampire community in general, and it might be nice to actually get some things off her chest. Besides, she needed a shower. Hopefully, the hot water would help ease some of her aches and pains. Damn, she felt like an old woman.

       “Okay. I’ll take a shower while I’m up there, and be back down in about a half hour,” she agreed.

       “That would be perfect. I’ll listen for the shower and try not to use any water while you’re in the bathroom. Unless, you need help…”

       She gave the woman a smile. “I’ll be fine. I feel like I’ve had the flu, but I’ve actually had days where I’ve felt worse. Thanks.”

       Maria gave her a nod then she turned away from her and slowly headed up the stairs to the loft. She gathered up some clean clothes, and she was about to enter the bathroom, when she spied Eric’s big heavy sweater lying on the floor near “his” side of the bed. Seeing it made her want to cry again, and she picked it up, holding it to her nose so she could smell his scent. She took the sweater into the bathroom with her and put the one she’d selected from her things back.

       The tears started in earnest the moment she got into the shower, and she leaned against the wall as she sobbed. How could things have gone so horribly wrong in such a short time? Just being in the shower was painful; remembering the things she and Eric had done inside the slick walls made her ache even more and curse herself for her own idiocy, but she stayed under the spray until she was all cried out.

       When she was done, she turned off the water and slid aside the shower door to step out. She dried herself with a thick towel and dressed slowly, moving as if she were in a fog and not feeling anything in her limbs. She teared up again when she pulled on Eric’s sweater, dipping her nose down into the collar to breathe in his scent, then wiped her face and splashed it with cold water before leaving the bathroom.

       She smelled the food the moment she opened the bathroom door: eggs, bacon, something freshly baked, and her stomach growled and roiled at the same time. She didn’t know if she was starving or nauseous. Probably both.

       The power was still off, but the storm had to be letting up some because the light coming in from the windows was brighter. She took a quick peek out the balcony doors and estimated that at least a foot of snow had fallen. It was still coming down, but it wasn’t white-out anymore, which she took as a good sign. At least she could see the trees again. They were covered in white. If she hadn’t been so miserable, it might just have been beautiful.

       She sighed and went downstairs, her arms crossed over her middle, as she made her way slowly to the main floor. She found Vincent sitting on the sofa playing with a hand-held video game console, and the two women in the kitchen. Maria smiled at her a she shuffled in, and she managed a small smile back.

       “You look a bit better,” Izzy commented.  _‘Nice sweater. A bit big for you though.’_

       “I’m cleaner at the very least,” she replied with a shrug.

       Maria handed her a mug of something hot that wasn’t coffee. She took a sniff and crinkled her nose.

       “What’s this?”

       “It’s an herbal tea. It will help with the pain and ache of the damaged bond,” the Gypsy replied.

       She gave the light green liquid a skeptical look but took a sip. It wasn’t bad, and her stomach settled a little.

       “How bad was it out there?” she asked Izzy.

       “Not too bad. Everyone else seems to be having a blast, but then for some reason most demons love snow. Maybe it’s because they don’t feel temperature the way we do, but Elena was talking about organizing a Snow Games for tonight and tomorrow.”

       “Snow Games?” came Vincent’s excited voice. “Awesome! Can we go? I wanna snowboard!”

       Maria laughed. “We’ll see. I think it can be arranged.”

       “Yeah!”

       “Weren’t you supposed to be leaving today?” she questioned.

       “Yeah, but that’s been put off. No one’s going anywhere until at least tomorrow,” Izzy replied, taking a sip from her own mug. “S’ok. I wasn’t too keen on leaving today anyway.”

       “I wish you’d have said something,” Maria chided gently. “I would’ve had no objections extending our stay.”

       Izzy shrugged. “We’ve been gone long enough as it is.”

       “Another few days wouldn’t have made any difference.”

       “I guess. And it is Tuesday. That means it’s karaoke night at Nike’s,” the woman commented with a grin. “I’ll tell you, you’ve never seen anything like a Slytheran demon trying to sing  _You Light Up My Life_.”

       She blinked, uncomprehending.

       “They have this tongue, you see…”

       “Izzy,” Maria chided and the woman stopped, but not before giving her a wink.

       Sookie could see that the food was almost ready, so she went to the cupboards and gathered up plates and utensils. Izzy took the stoneware from her because it was too heavy, and together they set the table in the dining room. Maria brought in the skillet of eggs, bacon and onion, plus some fresh baked muffins, hash browns, and a pot of coffee, and they all sat down to eat.

       She took a few bites, surprised at how hungry she became once she actually tasted food, and served herself more as her appetite picked up. The meal was very good, and the tea did seem to be helping.

       “This is delicious. Thank you,” she complimented.

       “You’re welcome. Yura included some sliced deli meats and cheese for lunch if we need it,” Maria said.

       “Yura?”

       “She’s the kitchen manager.”

       “Ah.”

       They ate breakfast, and she asked them questions about where they came from and where they lived. She found out that Maria and Izzy originally came from the Northeast, but now lived in Virginia. Vincent was 7 years old and his father was Zolan, the Fire Demon. Maria played concert violin and worked with a number of orchestras when she wasn’t sharing her Gift with the demon community. She found Maria to be willing to answer just about any question, but that Izzy was more guarded. Vincent tended to take after his mother, and he had the most entertaining answers.

       When breakfast… brunch? Was over, she helped clear the plates and wash the dishes. The power was still off, but that didn’t seem to be hindering them any. She was feeling a little better now that she’d eaten, not quite so exhausted or achy, although the pain was still there – just dulled down a few notches. She wondered if Eric was feeling better, too, in his sleep, but she was afraid to probe the bond to check. That would be kind of like sticking her finger into a deep wound to see how far it went.

       In the middle of clean-up, Vincent heard something outside the cabin and went to investigate.

       “It’s Keno and Rori,” the boy announced. “They wanna know if I can come out to play with them.”

       “Yes, but stay away from the lakeshore,” Maria replied, and Vincent gave a happy whoop before racing out.

       “Who are Keno and Rori?” she asked.

       “You’ve seen them. They are the two kitsune Vincent was playing video games with the other day.”

       The two foxes who seemed glued to the game console. “Oh.”

       “They’re becoming fast friends, which is good. Vincent needs playmates,” Maria went on.

       “And now he’ll be out lobbing snowballs, instead of itching around here,” Izzy added.

       Maria poured three cups of tea, handed one to her and one to Izzy, then took the third for herself. “Which is also good because now we are going to see what is to be done about your bond.”

       Sookie gulped a little nervously, but followed the two women into the living room. She and Maria sat on opposite ends of the sofa, partially facing each other, while Izzy sat on the floor and rebuilt the fire. The Gypsy reached down beside the sofa and picked up the violin case.

       “Don’t you want to wait for sunset when Eric is awake?” she asked.

       Maria shook her head. “My Gift will work on him whether he is conscious or not, and given the mental state he must have been in to do what he did, it’s probably best for him not to be awake. He might fight what I am trying to do, and do more damage in the process.”

       “Fight?” she repeated.

       “You must understand, for your bonded to do what he did, he must have been desperate. He must have felt that there was no other alternative left to him.”

       “What was the trigger?” Izzy asked. “What made him snap?”

       She shook her head. “I…”

       Maria put up a hand to stop her. “No. Don’t tell me. Sometimes when I play for just one or two individuals, I can get… impressions. Let me see if he will tell me himself what caused him to react the way that he did.”

       She closed her mouth and nodded. “Okay.”

       Maria removed Rosamun from the violin case and raised the instrument to her chin. Sookie took a deep breath and sat back on the couch, closing her eyes and trying to relax. A moment later, she heard the first notes of the violin; a very soft, gentle song that was both sad and moving at the same time.

       As it had on Sunday night, it took a few chords for the magic to start working, but once it did, it wrapped her up in warmth and comfort. She felt the tingling under her skin, felt the music flowing into her blood and taking hold of her soul, and she felt Eric in the bond, too, his energy entwined with hers, tangled and throbbing with pain. He’d been in agony, and his pain became her pain, but both were cleansed and eased by the music.

       She began to cry, and she began to remember. The memories started coming in a great rush, and it was like she was throwing herself off a cliff. She felt Maria and Izzy’s minds brushing against hers, and she knew they had joined her in the music, floating points of awareness in the sea of sound. She began to show them about her and Eric, about how they met. She started with the night Bill Compton came into Merlotte’s, and how the events of that night had changed her life forever.

       It went from there, and she showed them everything. From Dallas to Club Dead and everything in between. When she came to the part about Eric losing his memory, she allowed all of her hurt feelings to come out, how she had cared so deeply for him, how different he had been, how they had been lovers and made each other so happy if only for a few days.

       After that she delved into the aftermath of the Witch War, of meeting the Queen, her cousin Hadley’s death, and dating Quinn. Then finding out that Bill had been sent to seduce her by the Queen, and that she had fairy blood.

       And on and on. She couldn’t hold anything back as the memories poured out of her. Her house burning. Charles being sent to kill her. Debbie Pelt’s family having her and Quinn kidnapped. The Queen of Louisiana being betrayed by her husband, all the way up to the horrible trip to Rhodes, and how Eric had spared her being tied to Andre by offering his blood instead. Then the terrifying morning when the hotel blew up. Finally, she came to meeting Niall her fairy great-grandfather, the Were War, and the takeover of Louisiana by the Nevada vamps, Quinn’s betrayal, and Eric’s memory coming back.

       Which led to where they were now, trying to figure all of it out, but she was resentful of the bond and convinced the only reason Eric wanted her was because she had fairy blood. She realized now that their fight was caused, in part, by those assumptions and her resentment. Eric was doing everything he could to prove to her that he wanted to be with her, and she was doing everything she could to make it hard for him. But he was working under assumptions too, and that was almost as destructive.

       It took forever to get through it all, and the music was golden light dancing in her blood, but it began to release her as Maria slowly brought the last song to a close. The power had come back on about halfway through, but they’d ignored it. When it was done, Sookie felt wrung out, but relieved. She could feel that Eric was comforted too, his pain and suffering eased by the Healing, and she was glad, but there was one more thing she had to say. She had to tell them the very last of it.

       “So then…” she said aloud, her voice hollow and thick with her crying. “Then I yelled that I hated him and I wished that I’d let Sigebert kill him, and that was when he… did what he did and left,”

       She wiped her face. She was all snotty, and her eyes were puffy from crying, and she knew she had to look awful, but there wasn’t really anything she could do about it.

       There was silence. Izzy was still sitting on the floor, but she had her chin propped on her elbow, which was propped on her knee. She looked pensive and serious, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to say. Maria looked openly distressed as she rested the violin on her lap, her long fingers absently stroking the wood surface.

       “I know… I shouldn’t have said it. It was a horrible thing to say, and I didn’t mean it,” she admitted.

       “No, you shouldn’t have, but there is nothing to be done for it now,” Maria agreed.

       “I’m horrible. But I don’t know how to fix it. What should I do?”

       “You first have to heal this rift between you. Your bonded is in a terrible state. He is in torment, and he doesn’t know what to do. I was able to get some images from him even in his sleep. There was a terrible feeling of guilt… as if he’s done something that he should not have, something that violated a moral code of his,” Maria replied.

       “I got that too,” Izzy confirmed. “The impression I got was atonement. That the only way he could make up for what he’d done was to rip out the bond.”

       Maria nodded. “Yes. That’s it exactly. He was punishing himself, but trying to make it right as well…” The Gypsy gasped and looked at her, wide-eyed. “I saw something about you feeling forced into the bond. Did you use those words with him?”

       “Ummm… I’m not sure. I don’t think I ever actually accused him of forcing me, but I think I did say something about not wanting to be tied to him, but having no choice.”

       Wheels were turning behind Maria’s eyes, and Sookie could almost smell the smoke.

       “He was a Viking. Was he a merchant or a rape and pillage kind of guy?” Izzy asked.

       “I’m pretty sure he was a fighter. He’s really good with a sword and he loves a good fight, but he told me he’s never raped anyone, and the female vamps at Fangtasia say he won’t insist on sexual favors if they’re not interested.”

       “What about with human women?” Maria pressed.

       She shook her head. “He’s pushed it with me, but he’s always stopped before it got too far.”

       Maria and Izzy shared a look she didn’t like.

       “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Izzy asked.

       Maria nodded. “It would make sense.”

       “What’s going on? What are you thinking?” she demanded.

       “You gotta understand. Blood-bonding for a vampire is very serious business. They might give their blood to a human once in an emergency situation, but they would try to avoid repeat performances outside of a relationship,” Izzy replied. “If a vampire  _does_  form a blood-bond, it becomes permanent around the third exchange depending on how much blood is involved.”

       “A vampire would never enter into a permanent bond by accident,” Maria added.

        She nodded that she understood.

       “From what I felt from him, and from what you have shown me, I believe Eric may be under the impression that he… forced you into bonding with him,” Maria said.

       “Basically, we think he thinks he raped you,” Izzy summed-up.

       “Raped me?” she repeated, aghast.

       The two women nodded in unison.

       “It would be considered rape if a vamp forced his blood on you against your will. Some vampires wouldn’t give a damn about something like that, but apparently this one does, and he feels really strongly abut it too. If Eric hadn’t interfered when he did in Rhodes…” Izzy said.

       She gulped. Andre would have raped her into a blood-bond, and she had no doubts that Andre would have done whatever it took to keep her bound. “So… because I feel that I wasn’t given a choice in the matter, Eric thinks he’s the one who raped me.”

       “That’s the gist of what we’re getting from him,” Izzy confirmed.

       “And because forcing a woman is something  ** _he_**  considers abhorrent, he thinks what he’s done is unforgivable.”

       “So he tried to rip out the bond to make up for it,” she concluded, a sinking feeling in her stomach.

       “Looks like it.”

       “Well, damn,” she breathed, going a little numb, but at least his extreme reaction made a little more sense.

       “Yeah. My sentiments exactly,” Izzy agreed.

       “What do I do?”

       Izzy sighed. “You don’t have too many options. Your bond is fully seated. Normally things don’t… progress this far without both parties having some idea of what is going to happen and the consequences. In your case, it sounds like Eric knew the bond would mature if you fed from him again, but he felt that he had no choice because of this Andre vampire. In his mind, he was saving you. But what he should have done was taken you aside later and explained everything to you…”

       “I… uhh… I didn’t give him the chance,” she said, blushing.

       “Because you felt forced and cornered,” Maria prompted.

       “Yeah.”

       “What did you do?”

       “I kinda… stormed off, but then I went down to get the queen’s unclaimed suitcase. I didn’t know I was delivering one of the bombs that had been planted. But that’s when I found the soda can bomb when I got out of the elevator.”

       “We saw that. Eric felt your fear. He came to you, but so did the other man, the were-tiger,” Maria said.

       “Yeah,” she confirmed, shivering from the memory.

       “What happened after that?” Maria asked.

       “Quinn grabbed me after the bomb squad took the can and Eric vanished.”

       The two women shared another look she did not like.

       “What?”

       “He’d basically just tied himself permanently to you, at great risk to himself, and you responded by rejecting him and flaunting another man under his nose. He must have been greatly insulted and wildly jealous,” Maria explained. “And then the hotel blew up before either of you were able to come to any understanding.”

       “This situation is really messed up. He should never have given you his blood again,” Izzy said.

       “He said he wouldn’t have done it if he’d had a choice,” she admitted.

       “It was a terrible situation for him to be in, especially since you were acting out your anger at his memory loss by refusing him and courting other men,” Maria added.

       She huffed. It sounded like they were siding with Eric, but they didn’t know how he’d all but stopped talking to her after she’d spilled the beans, and how much that had hurt her.

       “But he stopped talking to me after he made me tell him,” she argued. “He was the one who rejected  ** _me_**. He was the one who couldn’t handle what I’d told him.”

       “Did you admit that you loved him?” Maria asked innocently.

       She started to answer, but stopped herself. “I don’t know if I love him,” she said in a small voice.

       “Your bond would not be so strong if you did not love each other. What is wrong is that neither of you trusts what you are feeling,” Maria corrected.

       “So what do I do? Declare my undying love, tell him he didn’t force me, and everything will be all better?” she snapped back sarcastically.

       “Of course not, but you both need to get some things out on the table,” Maria replied.

       “Look. Here’s the deal. You’re fully bonded so you’re stuck with each other. Now unless you wanna shove a stake in his heart, and deal with the resulting backlash of the bond breaking, you’re gonna have to deal with the reality of being bonded. This can be a positive experience or a negative one. Really, the choice is yours,” Izzy said firmly in a voice that said she’d get no sympathy from the woman.

       Maria nodded, agreeing with her friend.

       “Now, you can try putting a few thousand miles between you, and see if you can live separate lives, but you would always have awareness of the other, and you’d always know when the other needed you,” Izzy continued.

       “Or you could continue to hold him at arm’s length – emotionally – and flaunt other men in front of him. Which will probably make you both miserable to the point where you’d come to hate each other, and, trust me, that is a  _very bad thing_.

       “Or, you can say to each other: Okay. This is like an arranged marriage. Divorce is not an option so we have to make this work. Which, I think, is what Eric was hoping for when he brought you here. I am sure you’ve noticed that the magic here tends to make people face who they really are. That isn’t an accident. He was expressing some very solid goals in choosing this place, instead of taking you to one of the sex resorts down south.”

       “Supe Sandals,” she whispered, only half surprised to find out that such places existed.

       “Exactly. If all he’d wanted was four days of sex with you, he could have chosen any number of places better suited to that goal. He chose Isle Elena because he’s in this for the long haul, and he knew you were going to give him trouble about it. He must know you a hell of a lot better than you know him,” Izzy said.

       “Which, of course, made your accusation of being forced into the bond that much worse,” Maria added sadly.

       When they put it that way, it did seem really unfair to Eric who had obviously put a lot of time and effort into bringing her there and showing her that he was ready to commit. She couldn’t say the same for her. It was so strange how much the real Eric was like Amnesia Eric in all the ways that really mattered.

       “Okay. I can see your point, but I still don’t know what to do,” she admitted.

       “The first thing you need to do is make sure he understands that you don’t want him dead, and don’t think he raped you. Then the both of you need to have a very deep, serious heart-to-heart about what this bond means to the two of you. Finally, you should follow it up with a conscious reaffirmation of your bond where you willingly exchange blood with him. That will re-anchor the bond, and prove to him that you’re entering the bond willingly,” Maria advised.

       “If you do reaffirm, you’d better mean it because he’ll know if you don’t,” Izzy warned.

       She nodded. “I know. Thank you, both of you, for your advice,” she said, remembering her manners.

       Maria smiled. “You’re welcome. We hope it all works out between you.”

       “Thank you for the music. I’m sure one of the reasons both Eric and I are feeling better is because you played for us.”

       The Gypsy shrugged. “I like helping others, and my Gift is meant to be shared.”

       “How long have you known about… what you can do?” she asked, deliberately changing the subject.

       Maria gave a little chuckle and looked fondly at her friend. “We were in England. I was only seventeen, and I was competing in Yehudi Menuhin International Violin competition. It just so happened that a demon, an Earth Weaver named T’eir, was there, too, and he recognized my talent. Apparently, my Gift is very rare, but he knew what I was. He brought Zolan to hear me play.”

       “Zolan? Vincent’s father?”

       Maria nodded. “Yes. He heard me play that night, and the Healing affected him very strongly. And the rest, they say, is history.”

       “What made you chose to be with him? I mean, having a Fire Demon for a lover can’t be easy…” she asked. Not that she knew anything about Fire Demons.

       Maria gave her a sad smile. “Do we ever chose who we love? Sometimes I think it happens to us against all of our better judgment.”

       She let her eyes slide over to the closed and bolted door. “I know what you mean.”

       Maria laughed. “Yes. I believe that you do, but he is a good man. He will stand by you.”

       “Yeah. I know,” she agreed. “He already has. And he’s put up with me, even though I tend to be a lot of trouble.”

       “Most demons think humans are trouble. You shouldn’t take it personally.”

       “Oh, I don’t. Half the time I think it’s funny. Yanking Eric’s chain can be entertaining.”

       “I’m sure,” Maria said, smiling.

       “Mom! Mom!” Vincent yelled, bursting into the cabin in a flurry of white and cold. “You gotta come see what Keno, Rori and me built!”

       “What did you build?” Maria asked fondly, smiling at her son.

       The boy ran forward and grabbed his mother’s wrist. “C’mon. Come see! It’s awesome.”

       “Alright, let me get my coat on and I’ll be right out.”

       “What time is it?” she asked suddenly. It had to be getting close to sunset by now.

       Maria looked at her watch. “It’s 4:34.”

       Sixty minutes until sundown – give or take a few minutes.         

       “Come on out with us,” Izzy offered, reaching for her coat.

       “Oh no no no. It’s cold and icky out there,” she refused.

       “It’s stopped snowing! And it’s really awesome,” Vincent countered.

       “Just for a few minutes,” Maria urged. “It will be good for you to get some fresh air.”

       She frowned, but accepted her parka when Izzy handed it to her.

       “Alright, but just for a minute. Besides, I’ve never seen so much snow. The folks back home won’t believe I survived it if I don’t take pictures.” Her new red cell phone that Eric had given her had a camera in it.

       Vincent laughed. “I can stand in a snow bank and you can take a picture of me buried up to my neck!”

       She rolled her eyes. “How could I miss that?”

       She stood up and put on the parka, shoving her hat and gloves on as well. Her new boots were by the front door, so she slipped them on as she stepped out the door. It was frigid, but not as cold as it had been before, and there was no wind.

       “Oh,” she gasped in surprise.

       “It’s always warmer right after a big snow. The snow serves as an insulator,” Izzy explained.

       It was almost dark. Sunset must come earlier this far north. There were globe lights on posts at the edge of the clearing in front of the cabin, and they lit up the whole wondrous scene.

       Everything was snow. It clung to the pines, to the cabins, to the wide expanse of ground. It sparkled in the light like thousands of tiny bits of glass had been sprinkled on it. And everything was silent, hushed and still. She was almost afraid to breathe, lest she disturb the quiet. It was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever seen. She took out her cell phone and started snapping pictures.

       Right in the middle of the clearing was a huge snow castle that Vincent and his friends had built. The two foxes were still working on it, adding little touches to the turrets. It was almost as high as she was tall.

       “Wow,” she breathed, and took pictures.

       “Vincent, that’s amazing,” Maria agreed.

       “It’s a snow fort!” the boy exclaimed.

       “I can see that. Great job, Sparky,” Izzy praised.

       The two women stepped off the porch and slogged through the snow to examine the fort more carefully. She stayed where she was and huddled down into her parka, glad for Eric’s warm sweater. She took a few more pictures of the women and the boy walking in the snow. The snow came up way past Vincent’s knees. The folks in Bon Temps were never going to believe it.

       “Walking in a winter wonderland,” she commented to no one.

       The wind blew the scent of ice and winter into her nose, and she breathed deep, letting the clean air clear her lungs. It was a smell like no other in the world. Kind of like no other place in the world smelled like Louisiana. This place had its own scent, and it made her crave hot chocolate, and thick hearty soup, and spiced apples.

       She breathed out and watched the fog of her breath dissipate into the cold air. Then she saw Vincent lob a snowball at one of the foxes, and the foxes retaliated with a few of their own. Soon it was an all-out war with even Maria and Izzy joining in, but she stayed on the porch and prayed she would be safe.

        ** _“Snow!”_**  came a booming voice from beside her, and she turned just in time to see Eric throw himself off the porch into the deep white with the enthusiasm of a kid cannonballing into a pool.

       The snow around him came up like a tidal wave, and he thrust himself through it, whooping.

        ** _“Snowball fight!!”_**  she heard him bellow and got a first hand look at what a 1000-yr old Viking did when faced with two feet of fresh snow.

       The poor foxes didn’t know what hit them, but then everyone ganged up on Eric, who didn’t seem to mind the steep odds. She watched, feeling his simple joy through the bond, and took pictures, knowing half of them would be nothing but blurry white streaks. Then she laughed when one of the foxes got Eric in the head with a well-aimed snowball. Eric froze and whipped his head around to face her, his eyes glowing. She could feel his sudden turmoil and pain in the bond, and she gulped, trying to settle him by settling herself.

       She saw him take a step towards the porch, and she readied herself for his arrival. He appeared in front of her in a heartbeat, but Izzy Jumped ahead of him, so it was her he nearly bowled over. He reared back, snarling, his fangs out at the intrusion, but Izzy didn’t move.

       “Step aside, woman,” he growled.

       Izzy didn’t answer, or if she did, it wasn’t verbally. She just raised her hand in a halt motion and stood her ground until Maria could reach them. The Gypsy woman came running up the porch steps to stand next to her friend, and they both faced Eric calmly.

       “What is the meaning of this?” Eric demanded, then his face took on a odd look as he touched his chest. “What have you done?”

       “Sookie, please go inside. I want to speak to Mr. Northman before the two of you have your talk,” Maria said in a firm voice.

       She didn’t have to be told twice, and she zipped into the cabin, closing the door behind her. Then she rushed over to the front window and pulled the curtain back just enough for her to be able to see Eric and the two women on the porch. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Eric’s expression went from confused and angry, to hurt and surprised, and then awestruck. Maria reached up to put her hand on Eric’s cheek, which, considering the Gypsy woman was even shorter than she was, was quite a stretch, and she saw Eric bend down to touch his forehead to the woman’s shoulder.

       They stayed that way for perhaps twenty seconds or so, then Eric lifted his head to look Maria in the eye. He said something to her, and she nodded. She placed her hand on his elbow briefly, said one final thing to him, and stepped aside. Sookie saw her turn to glance at her through the window and give her a small, reassuring smile. She let the curtain fall back and turned to face the front door just as Eric opened it and stepped in.

       At first they just stared at each other, each waiting for the other to say something, until she finally couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

       “Hi,” she mumbled.

       “Hi,” he said back, his voice about as steady as hers.

       He was still dressed in the same clothes he’d been wearing last night, which meant that he hadn’t bothered to undress when he went to bed for the day. His hair was a mess, but she couldn’t tell if that was because he’d gone to bed that way or because he’d just been in a snowball fight. Even rumpled, ragged and shell-shocked, he was still gorgeous.

        _‘Don’t forget karaoke tonight at Nike’s!’_  came Izzy’s laughing mindvoice.

       She didn’t bother to grace that with an answer.

       “It snowed today,” she said stupidly.

       “I noticed.” His eyes fell to the open collar of her parka. “You’re wearing my sweater.”

       She reached up and felt the soft wool close to her neck. The touch choked her up, and the tears started welling in her eyes.

       “I’m sorry,” she blurted, taking a step towards him. “I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean any of it.”

       She reached for him, but he intercepted her hands before she could touch him, and she didn’t fight when he held her wrists.

       “Is it true, what she said? Is it true that you don’t believe I forced you?” he asked, his face desperate.

       “Neither of us had a choice,” she answered. “We both know Andre would never have accepted no for an answer.”

       “Is that supposed to make it better?” he countered, his voice anguished. “I warned you that you would come to hate me for it. I should have listened to my own cautions.”

       “You were right. You were the lesser of two evils. I accepted that when you did it.”

       “I thought… I thought that when you came to save Pam and me first of all when the hotel exploded that you’d forgiven me, that you understood why I did what I did.”

       “I did. I do,” she insisted.

       “I thought I could live with it, if you hated me,” he stated. “Lots of people hate me. I didn’t think it would be so hard for me to handle if you came to hate me too. I knew it would be worse if Andre bound you. I knew he would make it permanent as soon as possible. I couldn’t let that happen, so I offered myself instead. I knew it would make our bond permanent, but I’d convinced myself that I could handle whatever happened. But… but that was before I remembered what we were to each other. I didn’t know…”

       “How much you’d loved me,” she finished.

       “How much we’d loved each other,” he corrected.

       She swallowed hard and didn’t object. He was closer to the truth than he was to a lie anyway.

       “Rhodes changed everything,” she said.

       “I am so, so sorry.”

       Blood tears began to roll down his cheeks, making her cry too because his tears weren’t something anyone should see. This proud, ancient man should never have been wounded enough to make him cry.

       “I am too. Please believe me,” she told him, stepping closer.

       “I wouldn’t have done it if I thought I’d had any choice.”

       “I know.”

       She pushed against his hold on her wrists, and he loosened them enough for her pull her arms free. She used them to wrap around his neck, hugging him. The physical contact helped settle the turmoil in the bond, and he answered by folding his arms around her and pressing her close.

       “Do you forgive me?” he asked.

       “I forgave you right after you did it,” she assured him, letting him feel her honesty through the bond.

       He shuddered under her hands, then pulled his head back enough to look down at her. She stood up on her tiptoes to lick the blood tears from his face, and he responded with a harsh sob as his lips found hers in a desperate kiss.

       They didn’t make it to karaoke.


	12. Chapter Twelve

_Chapter Twelve_

       “Damn,” she sighed.

       “Hmm?” Eric questioned.

       They were in bed, wrapped in blankets and each other. She had her head on her Viking’s shoulder, and he was absently playing with her hair. The sex had been… restorative, especially emotionally, but she could tell that the bond was still damaged even after making love. That meant Maria was probably right. To mend the bond, she and Eric were going to have to swap blood, or she was going to have to drink his at the very least. She wondered if he knew that.

       Despite the make-up sex – which was sweet and tender and endearing when Eric was so careful with her and so uncertain (she’d practically had to mount  ** _him_**  before he was finally convinced that she was ready and willing. Right  _nownownow!_ ) – she still wasn’t ready to face all of ugliness that had come between them, so she was opting for a bit of levity before she and Eric delved into the badness.

       “We missed karaoke at Nike’s,” she complained.

       There was a pause, then Eric chuckled. “A tragedy.”

       “Izzy was saying I hadn’t seen anything until I’d seen a Slytheran demon try to sing  _You Light Up My Life_.”

       That got a good belly laugh out of him, and his chest rumbled under her cheek.

       “Apparently, that’s something to see,” she added.

       “Yes. They have this tongue…”

       “Stop! I don’t need the visual, thank you.”

       He snickered and grinned at her, but obeyed. She propped her chin up on his pects, her hands under her jaw.

       “Y’know. You should have a karaoke night at Fangtasia. Maybe once a month or so,” she suggested.

       Eric raised an eyebrow, then his mouth turned up into an evil smile. “And I could further humiliate my subjects by forcing them to not only do their monthly time at the bar, but to also attend this karaoke night, and tell them they must sing at least one song.”

       “You do have a death wish,” she replied, chuckling.

       “Why would they kill me? I fully intend to tell them it was a brilliant idea from our new Events Coordinator.”

       She reached for a pillow. His evil smile widened and his eyes glinted dangerously.

       “Careful… there’s two feet of snow out there, and I do believe there was a certain telepathic barmaid who did not join in the snowball fun earlier.”

       Her eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.”

       “Try me.” He rolled to his side, dumping her head off his chest, and leered down at her. “In fact… I may just do it anyway. When else am I going to get a chance to dump you, naked, into a snow bank?”

       She started sliding away from him, never taking her eyes off his riveting gaze. He was getting more excited by the moment, his fangs descending and his eyes starting to glow.

       “Oh no no no… Eric…”

       His face turned predatory. She was out of the bed in a heartbeat. He was faster. The curtain over the sliding door was ripped aside and the door slid open. She screamed. He grabbed her around the waist and out they flew, right into the snow piled on the balcony. She screamed again. He roared with laughter. She beat at him with her fists and got away long enough to scramble back inside. Eric followed her, naked and glistening with snow, his hair sparkling with ice crystals. He was carrying two large snowballs.

       “Do you know what’s great about being a vampire in winter?” he asked gleefully. “Snowballs don’t melt in my hands!”

       “Eric!” she shrieked, but he got her with both of them: one on her side and the other on her butt as she was trying to get away. She noticed that he was carefully avoiding her face and head.

       A second later, she was in his arms again and being lifted off the floor. She kicked and fought, but he just laughed.

       “Get off me! You’re freezing!” she cried.

       “Then warm me up, lover,” he replied, bending down to steal a frigid kiss.

       “ ** _I’m_**  freezing too!”

       He seemed to consider that fact as she shivered in his arms, then he gave a short nod and dragged them into the bathroom. She was never so happy for indoor plumbing and hot water in that moment as Eric turned on the shower and shoved them both in. The hot spray washed over them as Eric kissed her over and over, his hands everywhere at once. Her chill was soon replaced by shivering of another nature as he stroked and caressed her body, warming her up from the inside. They both started moaning and rubbing against each other.

        _‘You two okay? We heard screaming,’_  came a concerned mindvoice.

 _‘We’re fine! We’re fine!’_  she sent back, mentally shoving Izzy away.

       She heard Izzy’s mental laughter.  _‘Okay, okay. But when someone screams loud enough to be heard two cabins down in this place, we get concerned. I’ll tell security it’s a false alarm, just you and the vampire having rough sex.’_

**_‘Go away!’_ **

       More mental laughter and the connection blipped out. She was too busy shoving her tongue down Eric’s throat to care if guards showed up to make sure they were okay. Let them deal with a pissed off Eric. Right now she had a Viking to pillage.

       He lifted her up, pressing her against the wall of the shower stall, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He held her head high enough so that the water wasn’t running into her nose and mouth, and plunged into her. She screamed, but not in pain, and her noise only seemed to excite him further because he was doing some pillaging of his own. She never thought she’d ever see a shower as a good place to have sex, but Eric was going a long way towards convincing her that it was the  ** _best_**  place to have sex with him. Well, maybe he was just convincing her that anyplace was a good place to have sex with him.

       She was moaning, he was grunting, his hands were cupped under her butt, her hands were digging into his shoulders. They were both sending the other clear out of their minds. The golden wave was building, she could see bright sparks of light in her eyes. Eric was thrusting harder and harder, and she could feel his own orgasm rising. She came first, clenching around him as he met his release, shouting her name as he shuddered inside her.

       She sagged against him, dropping her head to his shoulder, but that put her face under the spray. He moved them immediately and let her legs slide down to the shower stall floor.

       “Warm enough?” he asked raggedly.

       “Yeah,” she gasped, spitting out water.

       Her legs were too weak to support her, so he held her up with one hand while he turned off the shower with the other. Then he scooped her up and stepped out of the stall, depositing her temporarily on the edge of the vanity so he could get a towel from the rack. A moment later, she was being wrapped up in soft, fluffy cotton goodness as he rubbed her dry.

       He began following the path of the towel with his mouth, letting his lips caress her nipples, his tongue flicking out to tease them to a hard nub. She shivered and gasped.

       “Eric…”

       He let the towel and his mouth dip lower until he was kneeling between her legs, and she was trembling with anticipation.

       “I’m hungry, my lover,” she heard him say.

       She spread her legs and gripped the edge of the vanity with both hands. “Do it.”

       “You are so incredibly magnificent,” he groaned just before he bit her in the femoral artery.

       She cried out and jerked, holding on to the vanity for dear life as he drank from her, and then he was in her again, thrusting hard, his mouth bloody and his fangs extended. He seized her lips in a desperate kiss, growling, until he broke the kiss, his face anguished.

       “I can’t get enough of you. Why can’t I get enough of you?” he moaned as he rode her. “I’ve had you over and over, and all I want is more. Why? Why can’t I have my fill of you? Why do I crave you?”

       His eyes were fierce, wild and terrified, and she didn’t know what to do except hold on.

       “I knew the moment I met you that you would be my death; knew it just as surely as if you had come dressed in a cowl and scythe. I knew the worst thing in the world would be for  ** _me_**  to…  ** _love_** …  ** _you!_** ”

       His voice rose into a cry, and he shouted something in a foreign language, but she recognized the name of Hlin, and then it didn’t matter because they were both climaxing. She rolled her eyes back, crying out as she let go of the vanity and grabbed his shoulders. He clutched her close, burying his face into her neck as he shook violently. He dragged her with him as his legs gave out, and they landed in a tangled heap on the floor.

       “Eric…” she whispered, straddling him, looking down at his tortured face and trying to soothe him by stroking his hair. His eyes were rimmed with red.

       “But I do. I do love you. Even if it means my death, I do love you. No matter what happens with the new king, or his plans for me or you; no matter what happens with our bond, I know that to be true,” he confessed. “I love you.”

       The admission seemed to relax him, as if the weight of it had been crushing him, but that now that the truth was out, it no longer haunted him. He even smiled at her, an odd wonderment on his face.

       Of course now would be the perfect time for her to respond in kind, but the words caught in her throat. She groaned and started to cry again, but he just reached up to cup her cheek tenderly.

       “You can’t say it. I know. That just means when you do say it, you’ll really mean it.”

       He seemed convinced that she would. She only wished she was so confident. Loving Eric was about as a scary a prospect as there was, and they both knew it. Maybe Eric was strong enough to love for both of them. She looked down at him, lying quiet beneath her, and wondered how she’d gotten so damaged as to not be able to love this man. She’d loved Bill, and she’d wanted to love Quinn. She’d  _definitely_  been overly fond of Alcide. But when it came to Eric…

       Yet Eric was the one who had been there for her. Bill had left her numerous times, but Eric had always pulled through. When things had gone to Hell, it had been Eric who had been there for her, in big ways, in small ways, in ways she was only beginning to understand. Hell, who else would have gone to an ** _orgy_**  with her on such short notice? And she doubted Bill would have been as… competent in his role as escort as Eric had been. Even though he’d been pretending to flirt with Eggs and Jan, his immediate intercession when Eggs had started to push it had told her that Eric had been keeping a close eye out. He’d made sure she’d stayed safe.

       Every time she’d reached out, it had been his hand that had reached back. Dallas, Club Dead, Jackson, the Witch War… How many bullets had he taken for her? She didn’t want to think about it.

       “Shall we move this party to a more comfortable venue?” he asked, breaking her out of her thoughts. “This tile is cold. I’m going to install radiant heat in the floor when I remodel your bathroom. No more cold feet in the morning.”

       That sounded delightful. “I’d like that.”

       He sat up and she slid her legs off of him to kneel on the floor. She waited as he stood and took his offered hand when he reached down to pull her to her feet. Together they went back to the bedroom where she crawled onto the bed, but he went to stand at the balcony doors, the curtains still open but the sliding doors closed. He didn’t seem to mind that anyone walking along the path from the lodge could see him backlit in all his naked glory, but then Eric was not a modest person. She heard him make a sound of happy satisfaction.

       “I love this place,” he said.

       Somehow, she wasn’t surprised. She shivered just looking at him standing there, nude, so close to the cold glass.

       “I loved it the moment I set foot on its shore. It was like coming home,” he continued.

       “You just miss the snow and cold coz we don’t get much in Louisiana,” she teased.

       “That’s true.”

       Her stomach took that moment to growl and Eric turned to face her.

       “You are hungry, my lover. Here I have had my meal and not seen to it that you had yours. I am a terrible mate,” he said, but he didn’t seem to be too overly distressed. “What time is it? The lodge kitchens are open late… Why is the bedside clock blinking 10:23 am?”

       She glanced over to see the flashing numbers. “Oh. There was a power outage earlier. It came back on about 3 o’clock this afternoon. I reset the clock downstairs, but I forgot all about this one.”

       He gave her a sexy smirk. “I can’t imagine why. But seriously, my lover, we should get dressed and go to the lodge to get you some food.”

       “There’s food here. Izzy went to the lodge and brought back a food basket during the blackout,” she answered.

       “Izzy was here?”

       “They all were: Izzy, Maria and Vincent. They came over from Cabin 18 to see if power was out here and stayed when they saw the state we were in. Didn’t Maria tell you that?”

       He shook his head. “It didn’t come up in our conversation. So they were here most of the afternoon?”

       “From about one, yeah.”

       He blinked, processing, and furrowed his brows. “You stayed here instead of going to the lodge were there was electricity?”

       “Electricity is over-rated. I was fine here. Besides, I was in no shape to be out in public. Maria and Izzy knew that so when the big guard came to get us, they stood up for me,” she stated, waving a hand dismissively. She didn’t want to remind him that their “state” was his fault.

       “Big guard?”

       “Yeah. He was over seven feet tall, huge guy. Had grayish skin and slimy black hair. Izzy called him something…”

       “A Corsian demon?”

       “Yeah, that’s it. She called him Lurch too, but he didn’t seem to get the joke.”

       Eric chuckled. “He wouldn’t. Corsian demons are much more brawn than brains.”

       “Kinda like Bubba?”

       “Believe it or not, compared to a Corsian demon, Bubba is a genius. Although I’m not surprised Elena has one on staff. It’s rumored that the Spartans interbred their women with Corsian demons to breed in size and strength.”

       “Well, he certainly had both.”

       Her stomach growled again and Eric offered her her robe, but then he pulled it back slightly. “Or shall I go make something and bring it to you so I can feed you in bed?” he offered with a glint in his eyes. “Oh, I would love to see you eat more of those chocolate covered berries. That was simply alluring. I should call the concierge on the intercom and order a lover’s meal to be delivered.”

       The very thought of having him feed her the chocolate dipped fruit made her insides clench and her heart rate go up. She imagined him placing a strawberry on her tongue, imagined licking the chocolate off his fingers…

       “Stay here, my lover,” he whispered huskily, and then he was gone, vanished from the loft.

       He came back about twenty minutes later, right about the time when she was starting to get worried and thinking about going to look for him. Although she hadn’t heard anyone leave or come to the cabin, somehow he had gotten his hands on a meal tray with several covered dishes and a carafe of wine on it. She recognized one item as the little steamer thing that held his preferred blood pods. Apparently, he’d ordered dinner, and it had been delivered toute de suite. At least he’d been decent enough to throw on a robe, otherwise whoever brought the meal over would have gotten an eyeful.

       He leered at her as he slid the tray onto the bed and crawled in after it, then he piled up some pillows to make a backrest for her, and ushered her to get comfortable. She complied, although she was keenly aware that she was still naked, as he shucked off the robe and joined her, his body stretched alongside hers, the tray between them. She watched as he lifted the lid off one of the dishes to reveal an assortment of h'ordeurves and finger foods. She had no idea what half of them were, but they smelled good. She reached for a stuffed mushroom, but he batted her hand away reproachfully.

       “I feed you,” he scolded as if he was offended that she had tried to rob him of something he was supposed to be doing. His finger glided over the assortment until it pointed to the mushroom. “This one?”

       She nodded. He picked up the morsel between his index finger and thumb, and offered it to her. She leaned forward and accepted the food, making sure to lick the tips of his fingers as they left her mouth. Eric gave her a pleased smile.

       “I may like this,” he crooned.

       She chewed quickly and swallowed. The stuffed mushroom had been delicious, in keeping with the dining room’s track record for excellence.  She watched hungrily as Eric selected a puff pastry of some sort and gave it to her. It tasted like salmon and cream cheese. God, it was good.

       “Mmm,” she sighed.

       Eric’s answer was a low groan of his own. He reached across the tray and poured her half a glass of dark red wine, then offered her a sip. She placed both hands on either side of the glass and tipped it up to her lips. She wasn’t really a wine drinker, but this one was very good. She had no sooner lowered the glass when Eric zipped forward to lick the last drops from her lips as he kissed her.

       “Ah,” he purred, letting his nose slide down along the curve of her neck. “The wine is sweet, but your blood is sweeter.”

       “How come you can do that?” she asked.

       “Do what?”

       “Lick my lips after I’ve eaten. Bill always made me scrub my teeth with toothpaste and rinse four times before he’d kiss me, and I practically couldn’t even have garlic in the house.”

       That little detail about her former lover seemed to amuse him. “Really?”

       “Really.”

       Her Viking shrugged. “Human food has never really bothered me, and I certainly wasn’t a picky eater when I was mortal. I don’t mind if you eat. Garlic can be… irritating, but I don’t find it intolerable. But Bill was a Southern Gentleman, was he not? Maybe his constitution was more… delicate.”

       She snorted, feeling an irrational need to defend her former beau. “Bill fought in the Civil War. There was nothing delicate about his constitution.”

       Her snarky defense only made Eric laugh. “My lover, if you only knew how many wars I’ve seen.”

       “I can imagine,” she replied.

       His face fell into pensive sadness and he shook his head. “No, you can’t, and I pray you never have to.”

       “I was there for the Witch War,” she pointed out.

       “I was with you for that,” he countered.

       “And the night the queen was attacked.”

       “I was there for that, too. I remember protecting you very clearly.”

       “You weren’t there for the St. Catherine Were War,” she reminded.

       “Yes. Another example of your lack of self-preservation when it comes to Weres,” he complained. “I told you to call me, and you didn’t. I was desperate to find you that night because I knew you were in danger. That was the second time I was searching for you. The first was when those idiot Pelts kidnapped you and the tiger.”

       She frowned. “Maria showed me how much I hurt you by flaunting Quinn under your nose. I’m sorry about that.”

       He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I admit I wanted to kill him, but that would hardly have had you running into my arms, now would it. I knew some of his history. I knew there was a good chance that he’d betray you, so I was biding my time.”

       “Did you know about the bit with his mother and the Nevada vamps?”

       He gave her a tender look and shook his head. “No. I would have told you if I did. I would not have allowed him to do to you what Bill did. Besides, if I had known ahead of time that Quinn was feeding Victor and Felipe information about the queen and the state of our kingdom, I would have been able to amass a preemptive strike and cut off the snake’s head before it could bite us.”

       The last was said in a harsh tone, Eric’s lip coming up in a sneer. He didn’t like Victor or the new king, and owing fealty to de Castro chafed him.

       “I have something to tell you…” she began, fingering the covers nervously. She waited until she had his attention. “Quinn killed Andre.”

       She gave Eric a nervous look, then went on, “It was right after the bombs started going off. I found Quinn and Frannie, and Andre was nearby. He was hurt bad, but I knew he’d live. Quinn told me to get out of there. I knew what he was going to do, but I let him do it. Andre had plans for me that would have taken my will away. Quinn knew that, so he staked Andre.”

       “I know.”

       She blinked. “You knew?”

       He nodded. “I suspected. You felt guilty every time Andre was mentioned; guilty, but relieved. That told me you knew more about his death than you were letting on. I knew you wouldn’t stake a helpless vampire, and you wouldn’t have been able to stake Andre unless he’d been incapacitated, so I surmised that someone else must have done the deed. The were-tiger seemed the obvious choice.”

       Well, huh. Here she’d been holding in the big secret, and he’d figured it out all on his own. “Oh.”

       “It doesn’t matter now because the queen is dead, but it would have been fatal for Quinn, you and myself, if she had lived to discover the truth.”

       “She would have killed you too?” she asked, surprised.

       Eric’s face grew hard and cold. “I would have died protecting you.”

       “Eric… what are we going to do about all this?”

       “About all what?”

       “Us? This blood-bond?”

       “It’s simple. We are tied. Permanently. Only death can separate us now.”

       “I don’t want to be a vampire,” she stated

       He winced and looked away. “Yes, I got that loud and clear. I won’t mention it again, but know that it will always be an option for you.”

       “Why?” she asked.

       “Why?” he repeated, seemingly surprised by her question.

       “You’ve told me yourself vamps look down on vamp-vamp relationships. You said vamps don’t like someone else having that much power over them. So even if I did let you make me a vampire, I still wouldn’t be with you,” she stated in as conversational a tone as she could manage. The subject was still a very sore one for her, but she was doing her best to stay calm and keep a level head.

       “I said it was unusual, but not unheard of,” he answered. “Bill and his maker were one pairing; Sophie-Anne and her children were others. The arranged marriages of the nobility are more examples, and, of course, you saw me marry Russell Eddington and Bartlett Crowe. So I wasn’t being entirely truthful when I told you those things, although the bit about vampires not liking other vampires to have that much power over them is true. But in our case, because our bond is so strong, you already have more power over me than anyone, even the new king, so your becoming a vampire wouldn’t change that.”

       “What about vampires not being able to stay with the one who… makes them for very long? Even if I did let you make me a vampire, I still wouldn’t be with you,” she pointed out.

       “I’ve always had a good relationship with the vampires I’ve made. It’s a wild speculation, but I do believe there is a good chance that we’d still be lovers after you made the change,” he said, trying to sound off-hand but failing.

       “You seem to have given that a lot of thought,” she commented.

       “I admit to being unusually occupied with thinking about your mortality.”

       “My death would hurt you.”

       “Your death  ** _will_**  hurt me. Regardless of what happens with us, unless you join me, I will have to face your inevitable death. That is not something I am looking forward to.” He shrugged. “But… we are linked so there is no use in dwelling on something I can’t change.”

       She once again admired his pragmatism, and she was going to say something to that effect, when he selected another h'ordeurve and offered it to her. She stared at the little morsel that looked to be a marriage of a meatball and a quiche.

       “What is it?”

       “You’re asking me? I haven’t eaten in a thousand years.”

       “Point,” she conceded and let him pop the thing in her mouth. Whatever it was, it was good.

       He picked up a little crabcake and gave it to her. She ate that one with relish.

       “You should have your dinner too,” she said, nodding towards the steamer.

       “I just ordered a little snack. It’ll keep. It’s your food that’s getting cold. Besides, I want to get to dessert.”

       She smirked and snagged a tiny sausage from his fingertips. “You always want dessert.”

       He answered her with a leer. “What can I say? I have a taste for sweet things. I certainly love eating  ** _you_**.”

       He followed his comment with a finger fondling her between her legs. She gasped and shivered. He chuckled and offered her another stuffed mushroom, then he got creative and started placing the morsels on strategic parts of his body for her to eat off. Things got very frisky after that, especially when they got to the messier parts of the meal.

       They paused to let him drink his snack before going any further. She took the opportunity to drink the glass of wine and polish off the h'ordeurves, leaving only the two small samples of dessert – chocolate covered berries and the sponge cake with raspberry sauce – remaining. She was feeling positively wicked so she put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back. He looked confused for a moment, but went willingly, accepting a kiss when she bent over him.

       “Don’t move,” she ordered, shocked by her own brazenness.

       “As you command, my lover,” he replied, giving her a smoldering look as he obediently settled onto his back.

       That did things to her libido and she licked her lips. Then she began to make his body into her table. She put berries in patterns on his chest and abdomen, then drizzled the chocolate and raspberry sauces all along his white skin, dripping some into his navel, and moving lower. She couldn’t believe she was doing it, but it was fun and incredibly arousing, and Eric certainly didn’t seem to mind being turned into a buffet. He moaned and his hard erection strained when she put chocolate sauce on that too.

       When she was done “setting” him, she popped the bite of sponge cake into her mouth, took a swig of wine, and began cleaning him off one berry at a time. She used her teeth and her tongue to scrape, nibble and lick every bit of dessert from his pale skin. Halfway through Eric began trembling and emitting tiny little whimpers, but he did his best to be an obedient lover and stay still like she wanted. When she started dipping her tongue into his navel, he gave a harsh cry and started talking quickly in a low whisper, speaking in that language he reverted to when his emotions ran high.

       “What language are you speaking?” she asked casually, as she licked a drop of chocolate sauce from the line of hair that ran from his navel to his groin.

       “Old Norse,” he answered raggedly.

       “And what are you saying?”

       “I am reciting the old sagas in order to keep myself from throwing you to mattress and ravishing you.”

       She laughed and licked the sensitive spot at the junction of his hip and thigh. His flesh quivered under her tongue.

       “I do love your honesty.”

       “Would you like me to honestly tell you what I want to do to you right now?”

       She positioned her mouth over his groin. “Oh, please do,” she said, then slid her lips over his length. He howled, and it was a very gratifying sound, but not nearly as gratifying as the words that spilled from his mouth, graphic and profane and yet tender as she sucked him off. She brought him almost to the edge, then released him and straddled his pelvis, positioning him at her opening.

       “You can move now,” she told him.

       He sobbed with relief, grabbed her hips and thrust home. It didn’t take long because they were both pretty far gone, but she loved the feeling of power, of knowing she had driven this gorgeous creature out of his wits. Her cries joined his as they rose together, screaming as they climaxed at the same time, his hips pumping desperately as his hands moved her up and down.

       In the aftermath, he lifted up into a semi-sitting position and suckled her breast, drawing a tiny amount of blood as he used his hand to get her off again. She was a limp doll sitting astride him as she trembled with the aftershocks.

       “How could Bill ever dislike sharing a meal with you?” he finally said, his voice unsteady. “You may use me as your platter anytime.”

       She snorted and let herself slide off him. He caught her and tucked her against his side. The post-coital snuggling had begun.

       “Considering I’ve never done that before, he never had the chance to say no,” she commented.

       “What a pity… for him, but a wondrous blessing for me. I loved that. I love having sex with you.”

       “I… love having sex with you too. You’re… you’re really the best I’ve ever had. Not that that’s saying much since I’ve only ever been with three guys and you’re one of them…” she admitted, curling against him.

       “You gave Bill your virginity. That he took it at all, under the false pretenses he was hiding behind, is enough to make me want him dead. I wish I had been your first. But then, if that had been so, it would have been me under obligation from the queen to seduce you,” he said angrily. “But if it had been me, I would have… given you a proper initiation.”

       “Bill did alright.”

       She felt his incredulousness through the bond, and she could almost imagine him raising his eyebrow.

       “Oh? Did he lick you and stretch you with his fingers? Did he make you come on his tongue, then push in while you were still trembling and relaxed from the climax?”

       She gulped, reacting to his words even though she was bone tired and not sure she could take him again even if she tried. “No.”

       “Did he fondle you at all to get you ready?”

       “Not really.”

       “Hmph. What did he do then?”

       “Well… I kinda didn’t tell him I was a virgin. He sorta figured it out when he tried to… y’know…”

       Eric was quiet and still for a moment, then he asked in a careful voice, “And what did he do when he found you still had your maidenhead?”

       She shivered at the way he said “maidenhead.” “He… umm… pushed through it.”

       “Is that all? He didn’t pull out, prepare you to take him?”

       “He said it would hurt…”

       “But he didn’t stop.”

       “I begged him not to.”

       “He should have anyway. He was the more experienced lover. Did it hurt?”

       “Yeah.”

       He huffed and she felt his irritation. “If it had been me deflowering you, there would not have been any pain.”

       “Oh I doubt that. You’re so…” She nearly choked, realizing what she was about to say but unable to stop herself. “… much… bigger.”

       She ventured a glance at him, and he was beaming with male pride, a huge grin on his face. “Really? I am so glad to hear you say that.”

       She blushed furiously and ducked her head down again. “Oh God.”

       “Am I bigger than the tiger?”

       “Erk. Ummm… about the same.”

       He roared with laughter. “Sookie, Sookie. I love you, Sookie. I love every bit of you, even your silly blushes. You should be proud that I am a well-endowed man. I can please you so much better than a less adequate man.”

       “Size isn’t supposed to matter,” she complained.

       “They only say that to make smaller men feel better. Combine experienced technique with a  _gracious plenty_ , and you have a perfect combination for satisfying a woman. I do satisfy you, don’t I, my lover?”

       Did he satisfy? She didn’t know if she’d be able to walk when he was done with her, but she’d be the happiest invalid in Louisiana. “Um… yes.”

       He laughed again and kissed the top of her head. “I do love you, my lover.”

       “You’re getting more comfortable saying that,” she commented.

       He shrugged. “I’ve accepted it. I love you. That’s that. Moving on.”

       Mr. Pragmatist to the end. She wished it was so easy for her, and she said so.

       “But you  ** _do_**  love me.  ** _I_**  know you do.  ** _You_**  know you do. It’s just a matter of admitting it,” he said confidently. “I did have a plan in bringing you here. I planned to fuck you into a quivering mass of post-coital bliss, wherein all of your walls and objections would come down, and you’d admit you loved me. But so far, you’re proving to be very stubborn in that regard.”

       He didn’t sound at all disappointed.

       “Oh I dunno. I can honestly say that I have been a quivering mass of post-coital bliss several times so far on this trip,” she teased, tracing the line of his shoulder with her finger.

       “And yet, no declaration of love,” he sighed with mock distress. “I shall have to try again.”

       She snickered, and she felt the arm around her tighten.

       “The beauty of my plan is that I can put it into action over and over again with no negative results. I am truly brilliant,” he said smugly.

       “If you were breathing, I’d smother you right now just to get that smirk off your face,” she warned, but she made no other move. She was still, she hated to admit, a quivering mass of post-coital bliss.

       He laughed and kissed her head again. “I shall have to keep trying until I get the results I want.”

       “You seem pretty sure that I’ll give in.”

       The lighthearted banter was fun, but also comforting. Eric’s confidence made her feel better because he always seemed to know what she needed to hear most.

       “Oh you will. It’s just a matter of time,” he assured her, stroking her hair lovingly. “I’ve known how you felt for a while, even before I regained my memories of the nights I spent with you. I knew you were angry at your feelings because you were clinging to some silly mortal notion that you didn’t _choose_  me, and therefore it wasn’t right to  _love_  me.”

       “Hey, free will is not a silly mortal notion,” she argued.

       He lifted her chin and made her look at him. “Of course not, but you fail to realize that you chose me years ago. I knew the moment you turned to me to escort you to that orgy, when you placed your safety and trust in me, that you would be mine. I knew all I had to do was be patient. If Bubba hadn’t intruded in on us at Russell’s compound, you would have been mine then.”

       “You make it sound like you believed if I had sex with you, I’d have dated you,” she commented drolly.

       “Wouldn’t you have?”

       He seemed perplexed by the notion that she wouldn’t want a repeat performance. At first she wanted to smack him for his sexual hubris, but then thought the better of it. If he could have made her body sing when she’d had a big hole in her side the way he could when she was healthy, there was no way she would have kicked him out of bed for eating crackers. So in that respect, his ego was well founded. Bill had warned her way back on that first night in Fangtasia, the night she had seen Eric for the first time, that sex with the Viking was unforgettable. She could attest that that was definitely true.

       Her silence set his mind to wheeling. She couldn’t read his thoughts, although she had in the past. She was starting to notice a pattern with that. When the amount of active vampire blood in her body reached a certain level, she could read vampire thoughts – sometimes, and only if the vamp was projecting very strongly. As the effects of the blood faded, so did her ability to pick up their thoughts. She’d never told anyone that little secret, but she wondered if she’d be able to keep it from Eric on a long-term basis.

       But he was definitely thinking about something very hard right now because she could almost catch them. Or maybe it was just her interpreting the feelings in the bond that was giving her insights to his thoughts. Whatever it was, he wasn’t happy.

       “You thought you would be a conquest…” he said carefully. “That I would fuck you, maybe keep you around for a short time until I got bored with you, then drop you by the wayside.”

       She stayed very quiet and still, and her silence was his answer. He gave a sad sigh and drew her even closer, bending his head down to kiss her temple.

       “I’m sorry. I am sorry for anything I may have done that made you think I would not be faithful. And I am sorry that your experiences with your brother and first lover have given you no reason to believe that men will honor you and stay true to you, and I am especially sorry that you think so little of yourself that you would believe any man truly worthy of you would use you for sex then discard you.”

       She knew he meant every heartfelt word, and it brought tears to her eyes. She stretched her arm around his chest and clutched him tight.

       “Sookie. I am not Bill. And I am not your brother. And I am not Quinn. I know you have been afraid of me. I know you have resented me in the past, and I know neither of us would have chosen to bond the way that we did, but we  ** _are_**  bonded, and you are…  ** _I_**  am  ** _yours_** ,” he stated gently, and she knew he’d started to say “you are mine,” but had decided to change it at the last moment. He was hers. She was his. They were each other’s. Two way street.

       “I love you,” he repeated. “I am yours.”

       That was it. The waterworks started up again, and she was clinging to him like a weepy idiot. He didn’t say anything. He’d probably held her while she’d cried more than any other man on the planet, and she knew it weirded him out (“Don’t cry again! Just don’t start crying again, and I won’t mind taking this to the cleaners. I won’t even mind getting a whole new suit,” he’d implored in Dallas when she’d wept and blown snot all over his shirt.), but he just curled them onto their sides, facing each other, and tucked her into the curve of his body, letting her bury her face into his chest. Then he held her and started that soothing, crooning hum thing again, the one that made his pects vibrate.

       She cried for everything she’d been through, for all the suffering she’d endured, for all the ridicule and hostility and loneliness her handicap had brought into her life. She cried for her own damaged heart, and her anger at those who had hurt her. And she cried for this man, this steadfast man who had given of himself, over and over, who had humbled himself for her own petty insecurities, who had stuck with her even she had repeatedly kicked him in the shins.

       “I don’t deserve you,” she sniffled.

       “Too bad. You’re stuck with me,” he replied, a smile in his voice.

       She gave a short, barking laugh, and pulled back enough to wipe her cheeks with her hands. He helpfully offered her the cloth napkin from the meal tray. She blew her nose in it, then felt bad because some poor person on the laundry room would now have to wash it. She’d rinse it out later.

       “Stuck with you, huh?”

       “You should be glad. I’ve been told I’m quite a catch,” he teased, batting his blue eyes at her.

       She snickered. “If that’s so, maybe I ought to strike while the iron’s hot and make it official.”

       He blinked at her, his eyes going wide, and she enjoyed a moment of seeing him speechless.

       “As in… get married?” he stammered.

       She shrugged. “Louisiana recognizes vamp-human unions now.”

       She felt the surge of joy in the bond, and she hoped he knew that she was just teasing him; otherwise he was going to be mightily upset. He stared at her for a few more seconds, then his eyes narrowed.

       “You’re toying with me, aren’t you,” he said, none too pleased. “You don’t really want to get married.”

       For a brief moment she allowed herself to see it: her dressed in white, him waiting in a tux at the end of the aisle, the guests, the flowers, the minister… It was every girl’s dream, wasn’t it? She looked at it, held it in both hands as if it were no more than a soap bubble, which, of course, it was, and it popped with a soft plunk of regret.

       “No,” she whispered, lowering her eyes, unable to look at him.

       “You’re lying,” he stated very clearly. “But you aren’t ready to take such a public step with me. No matter, I can wait.”

       That made her stare at him. “You mean, you’d do it?”

       “Of course. Haven’t I all but asked you already? When you are ready, we can make it as official as you like. I look forward to being able to say that what is mine is yours officially – or half of it if you’d like – and you not being able to deny me because we’d be legal husband and wife.”

       He stopped, probably because he could tell she was on the verge of hyperventilating.

       “But I can see that you might need a few years to get used to that concept.”

       He was being so matter-of-fact about it, it was almost scary. Okay, the “I love you. That’s that. Moving on”-thing was downright disturbing. She moved her mouth a few times before her voice worked.

       “Yeah,” she agreed.

       She could feel his slight disappointment in the bond, and a few of the still raw places flared with pain, making them both wince. The damaged tie reminded her of what Maria had said, and she thought of a way to smooth Eric’s ruffled feathers.

       “There is something…” she began, running her hand over his cool skin. He looked at her, and she could see the guarded wariness in his eyes. She winced. He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable, and she’d kicked him… again.

       “Maria said you really did a lot of damage when you…” What? Tried to rip out the bond and almost send them both into shock? “Tried to separate us.”

       He frowned, his brows coming together. He knew exactly what she was talking about.

       “She said that the best way to heal it was… was to do another blood exchange.”

       There, she’d said it. He was silent, regarding her with such intensity that she felt as if he were trying to a bore a hole into her mind.

       “You’d be willing to do this?” he finally asked.

       She nodded. “I would willingly renew our blood-bond by drinking from you,” she affirmed.

       He stared at her for a few moments longer, and the scrutiny made her heart beat faster. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore, and she arched her neck, offering her throat.

       “No,” he stated, his voice flat.

       “N… no?” she repeated, already feeling the sting of rejection.

       He placed a hand under her chin and kissed her before she could start to cry.

       “No,” he said more gently. “Not tonight. This is a big decision for you, and I don’t want you to make it rashly. Sleep on it, as they like to say these days. If you are still willing, we will blood-bond tomorrow night. Is that acceptable to you?”

       So he wasn’t saying “No.” no. He was saying “not now.” That made her feel so much better. She hated to think that she’d put herself out there, only to have  _him_  kick  _her_  in the shins.

       “Is… is it okay with you?” she answered.

       “Dear One, I am ready to bond with you in any way you wish to bond at any time: body, blood, or piece of paper. You have but to say the word.”

       She teared up but stopped them after the first one escaped. “Thank you.”

       He smiled and licked the tear away, then he smirked and bent down to lick her breast as his hand slid between her legs.

       “Blood tomorrow, body now?” he questioned.

       “Oh Eric, I don’t know if I can…” she began, even as her sex drive started doing a happy yesyesyes dance.

       “Yield and let me take care of everything,” he soothed, his fingers and tongue mirroring each other in little circles.

       She grunted and arched towards him in answer. He removed his fingers long enough to lift her leg and move it over his hip as he shifted forward, then he tilted her pelvis just so and slid into her. She gave a sigh of satisfaction as she felt their bodies become one, and surrendered to him completely as he moved them in a slow, tender rhythm.

       When he was done, she was a quivering mass of post-coital bliss again, but an exhausted one, and she was curled against him, again, drifting on a sea of happiness. He whispered a soft “I love you” in her ear as her heavy eyes closed.

       She murmured the words back in kind as she let sleep come up to take her.

       She thought she heard him laugh a faint, “Finally,” but she wasn’t sure, and then it didn’t matter because she was asleep.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

_Chapter Thirteen_

       She woke earlier than she had expected, rising with an odd feeling that something wasn’t right. She rolled over to face the closed balcony curtains and smiled. Another dozen roses was sitting next to the original dozen on the bedside table, and a note card was propped up against the crystal vase with her name written on it in Eric’s neat script. It never ceased to amaze her how lovely the older vampires’ penmanship was. Bill, Pam, Eric, even what she’d seen of Clancy’s handwriting, all had perfect script. She guessed that was because literacy was rare when they were alive, and such things as typewriters and word processors were unheard of, so legible handwriting was a big deal.

       Eric’s writing was like him: bold, big and strong. He made broad sweeps with the pen, the script flowing and precise. There was nothing flowery or tentative in his writing, and each letter was perfectly readable. She picked up the envelope and opened it, drawing out the folded note in order to read what it said. It was sweet and to the point.

 

_Dear One,  
_

_No doubt when you wake you will find me gone. You were sleeping so peacefully, and looked so lovely, that I did not have the heart to wake you to tell you I was leaving. Please do not worry about my absence. After our talk last night, I decided there were some things I wanted to get for our bonding tonight. The items I am looking for are not readily available on Isle Elena so I flew to the mainland. I won’t be able to make it back before dawn, so I will shelter wherever I am and join you on the island as soon as possible._

_You should eat well and rest during the day so you are ready for my return. If you haven’t changed your mind about renewing our bond, please light the hurricane lamp and set it on the balcony after sunset. That way I will know that you are still willing._

_Expect me sometime after 7pm as it is unlikely that I will get back before then. Please wait for me in our cabin, and please wear the blue and silver dress._

_I will see you very soon, my lover. I love you._

_E_

 

       Well, it was very good that he’d warned her that he wouldn’t be there, otherwise she would have freaked out when he wasn’t in the windowless room. Still, she was a bit disappointed because she had hoped to slip into the bed with him just before sunset, so he would wake with her lying next to him. Oh well, perhaps another time if the opportunity presented itself.

       She folded the note and put it back in the envelope, and then gave the roses a deep sniff. Their scent was heavenly. She sighed as she lay back against the pillows. The room still smelled faintly of chocolate and sex, and she closed her eyes to breathe in and enjoy the scents.

       It was only 9am; she hadn’t fallen asleep until nearly 3am, but the room was so bright even through the closed balcony door curtains that it seemed much later. She buried her head under the covers to block the light, but that still only garnered her another hour of sleep before her bladder began kicking her in the spleen. She got up, pulled on her robe out of modesty even though she was alone in the cabin, and went to the bathroom.

       When she came out, she saw the true state of the bed and gasped. There were streaks of brown and red left from chocolate and raspberry sauce that hadn’t been licked off Eric’s body during their loveplay last night, and it had smeared and stained the sheets. She was horrified. She couldn’t remember if there were any clean linens in the cabin, and she knew there wasn’t a washer and dryer in the place.

       She quickly stripped the bed and ran the soiled sheets downstairs to the kitchen where she shoved them into a sink full of cold water. She put the cloth napkin she’d used as a handkerchief in with them, then she rummaged around for anything she could use to get the stains out of the sheets. All she found was liquid dish soap and powder for the automatic dishwasher. She might be able to use the dishwasher powder, but that didn’t solve the problem of where to hang the sheets to dry or where fresh, clean ones could be had. Maybe the notebook on the resort’s amenities would tell her what housekeeping options were available. The cabin had an intercom, but it only buzzed the concierge not any of the resort departments or the other cabins… other cabins…

       She mentally wondered if they’d be up, then decided that she didn’t know any parent who was able to sleep past 7am, so Maria at the very least should be awake, but that meant Izzy would probably be up too. She concentrated and reached out with her mind.

        _‘Yes?’_  Izzy’s mindvoice answered.

        _‘Hey, it’s me Sookie.’_

_‘You’re the only other human telepath on the island. Of course it’s you. What’s up?’_

_‘Umm… do the cabins come with a set of clean linens? I’ve looked but I can’t seem to find any.’_

       There was a pause then laughter echoed across the connection.  _‘Whoo hoo, you two **really**_ _made up! Are the sheets in ribbons?’_

 _‘No’_  she huffed.  _‘Just stained. I have them soaking in the sink with some soap, but I’ve nowhere to hang them and no new ones to put on the bed.’_

_‘You tried to wash them? Oh the staff will love you.’_

_‘Well, I didn’t want some poor maid to have do it. That would have been embarrassing! I don’t want the resort staff knowing all of Eric’s and my private stuff!’_

_‘Honey, after the noise you two made last night, everyone on this island knows your private stuff.’_

       She blushed furiously and clenched her fists, readying a scathing reply. Izzy cut her off before she could get started.

_‘But seriously. No one cares. Trust me. After some of the guests this place has hosted, a human and her vamp blood-bonded working on relationship issues is tame. All you need to do is buzz the front desk and tell them you need housekeeping. Tell them you need cabin service, and they’ll send someone out to clean and change the sheets. Okay?’_

_‘Okay, got it. Thanks.’_

_‘Hey, you gonna come out and play today? Elena’s having Snow Games. There’s a snow sculpture contest this afternoon. Sparky and the foxes’s castle is entered, and there are quite a few others too. We saw some of them last night. You should come out and see them. Do some fun snow stuff.’_

_‘I’ll watch from inside, thanks.’_

       Izzy laughed again.

        _‘If you do come out, wear sunglasses. The snowblind is murder.’_

_‘Okay, thanks for the tip.’_

_‘No prob. Hope to see you around. Be safe.’_

_‘Thanks. Be safe.’_

       The connection cut off and Sookie headed for the living room where she could find the intercom. As she passed the fireplace to get to the wall where the intercom was located, a splash of color caught her eye, and she turned to find another dozen roses waiting for her on the dining room table, along with a long envelope with her name on it in Eric’s handwriting. These roses were not red; they were lavender and pink. She’d never seen lavender roses before, and she was enchanted by them. They smelled wonderful, and she smiled dreamily as she picked up the long envelope and opened it. She found another folded note wrapped around a certificate for a full day spa at  _Aegle’s_ , the resort’s health and beauty spa.

 

_Dear One,_

_I hope you like the roses and my gift. I have been told that women very much enjoy the services offered at these establishments. The day spa package I have given you is a four-hour pampering advertised as one of the spa’s finest offerings. In addition, I have added a soak in the mineral bath. The write-up said it was good for soothing sore muscles and rejuvenating a tired body. While you are soaking away your aches, please think of me and all of the reasons why you need it. I know I will be thinking of you, and all the enjoyment I will get from making you sore and tired again._

_I booked your appointment for 1pm. Forgive me for making the decision for you, but it was the only open slot left._

_I will see you soon, my lover. I love you._

_E_

 

       She blushed reading the bit about the mineral bath and stared at the gift certificate. She’d never been to a spa before, but she knew they were expensive. Eric must have spent a whole heap of money on buying the package, and she knew she ought to be grateful, but he hadn’t even bothered to ask her if she wanted to go to the spa. He was just assuming that, because she was a woman and women “very much enjoyed the services offered at these establishments,” she would automatically like them too. Didn’t he know her well enough by now to know that she rarely liked what other women did?

       She sighed, not sure what to do, and tromped over to the intercom to call for housekeeping. She punched the call button and a pleasant-sounding, female voice answered.

       “Isle Elena Concierge. Laola speaking. How may I serve you?”

       “Um, yeah, this is Sookie Stackhouse in Cabin 16.”

       “Yes, Ms. Stackhouse, how can we help you?”

       “Umm. I need to speak with someone in housekeeping. We need cabin service… Well, just clean linens for the bed really. We ordered food last night, and there was an… accident and the sheets got stained. I washed them, but…”

       She stopped because she could tell that she was starting to babble.

       “We would be happy to send someone to remake the bed with clean linens. Do you need towel and trash service as well?”

       “Um… we’ve been reusing the towels…” Of which at least two were in a heap on the bathroom floor.

       “We’ll bring clean ones. When is your checkout date?”

       “Ummm. Tonight sometime…”

       “We’ll send someone over this evening. Your companion is a vampire, yes?”

       “Yeah, but he’s not here. He had to go to the mainland last night.”

       “Oh. Well, then we’ll send someone this afternoon.”

       “I have a spa appointment at one so I’ll be out of the cabin most of the afternoon,” she said.

       “Very good. We’ll have the cabin cleaned and restocked before you return.”

       “Great! Thanks.”

       “You’re welcome. Enjoy your day.”

       Sookie smiled and released the call button, taking the opportunity to grab the notebook on the table and open it to the information pages for the spa. She quickly looked up the package Eric had bought her – disappointed when it didn’t have any prices listed – and saw that the 4-hour spa included a 90-minute massage, body scrub, manicure and pedicure, and complete facial including mud mask and micro-exfoliating scrub. All that plus a 30-minute soak in the mineral bath would take close to five hours so she wouldn’t get back to the cabin until after 6pm, but that was okay because Eric wrote that he wouldn’t get back before 7pm.

       She looked at the certificate again and tried to imagine what Eric must have been thinking for him to buy her something so extravagant. She was certain that he meant the gift as a pleasant surprise, something he thought she would like. Come to think of it, it  _did_  sound like a nice way to spend the afternoon. The facial, manicure and pedicure at the very least were things she would enjoy. She’d never had a real massage before, but the ones Eric gave were fantastic – as was the sex they had afterwards.

       The description of the body scrub said it gently sloughed away dead cells, leaving the skin soft and smooth. It certainly fit with something she might like, and the mineral bath thing spoke for itself. She  ** _was_**  achy and sore, but it was the kind of “I’ve had lots and lots of amazing sex with a big Viking” sore, so she didn’t mind the discomfort. She could imagine Eric reading through the spa offerings and thinking that an afternoon spent being pampered and fussed over would please her, and he wasn’t that far off the mark. She was vain. She liked to think that she was pretty. She liked to think that she looked good. She tried to imagine how it would feel to have her hands, feet and face done, and her body rubbed and soaked until it was soft and relaxed. She tried to imagine how she would look and feel when it was all over, and how Eric would feel if she presented herself to him all scrubbed and massaged and polished… and dressed in the blue and silver dress.

       He’d eat her alive.

       She decided that it was poor manners not to accept a gift given in such good faith (not to mention exactly how much fun they would  _both_  have getting her tired and sore again,) and she looked at the clock on the mantle. It was approaching 11:30am. She had just enough time to shower, dress and get over to the lodge for some breakfast before her appointment.

       She hurried up the stairs for a quick shower. Since she knew she would be spending most of the day at the spa, she dressed very casually in a pair of jeans and one of her older sweaters that was comfortable and loose. She went downstairs and grabbed the two borrowed paperbacks to return them to the library, and then she put on her parka and boots and opened the door. As the bright sunlight nearly blinded her, she remembered Izzy’s warning and grabbed her sunglasses. The laser beams of light piercing her brain immediately subsided, and she left the porch to hoof it over to the lodge.

       Paths had been dug in the snow to allow safe passage from the cabins, and she followed these with little difficulty, actually enjoying the winter, snow-covered scene. It was really beautiful, everything white and sparking in the sun. The castle Vincent and his friends had built looked even more fantastic in the light, as did the numerous snow sculptures she passed on the way to the lodge. Whoever was judging the contest was going to have a hard time choosing a winner, although she was partial to the snow sculpted replica of the Eiffel Tower.

       There was a buzz of activity around the lodge as the “Snow Games” were in full swing. Someone had built a huge snow and ice slide, and resort guests of all sizes and shapes (literally!) were taking turns careening like children down the slick slope, and snowball fights seemed to be the activity of choice. Laughter bounced off the snow piles and lodge walls, and she ducked her head to avoid the flying snowballs as she made a mad dash for the safety of the lodge atrium. A near miss hit the logs next to her head, spraying her face and hair with a fine mist of snow. She brushed it out as she zipped in through the tall, sliding doors, and headed for the dining room.

       “Good morning, Ms. Sookie,” Noria greeted as she came up to the hostess station.

       “Good morning, Noria.”

       “A table by the windows?”

       “That would be great. Thank you.”

       Noria gave her a brilliant smile and guided her up to the same table she’d sat at the previous day. Now the windows looked out onto a snow-covered landscape, and the contrast of snow against the waters of Lake Superior was beautiful.

       “Good morning, Ms. Sookie,” Toth’s voice said cheerfully, and she looked up to see her waiter smiling happily.

       “Good morning, Toth. How are you today?”

       “I’m very good, thank you. Are you going to participate in the Snow Games? They need volunteers to ride on the sleds for extra weight during the races.”

       She tried to put herself on the back of a sled and shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t. I’m scheduled for a day spa this afternoon.”

       “Oh. That will be more fun for you. Our spa is top rated.”

       “I’ve never been to one so I’m looking forward to a new experience.”

       Toth nodded. “I think you will like it. I have never heard a guest complain about the services.”

       “That’s good to hear. Are there any specials this morning?”

       “We have spiced apple cider and snowman pancakes in honor of the Snow Games. Plus we’re also offering white chocolate raspberry hot cocoa.”

       She’d never had spiced apple cider before, so she opted to try that, plus coffee and a simple two-egg breakfast with sausage and toast. Toth took her order and then zipped away to the kitchen. She returned to looking out the windows, watching the antics of the guests outside.

       She caught a glimpse of a black-haired boy running through the snow in a sleeveless shirt and recognized Vincent immediately. His two foxy friends weren’t far behind, and she watched them pummel the boy with snowballs. Vincent seemed to take it all in stride, but then she saw him take off his gloves, and what he did next nearly shocked her out of her seat. The foxes seemed to know what was coming and threw their snowballs high above their heads as the boy’s hands began to glow, and two fireballs erupted from his palms to blast the snowballs right out of the air.

        _‘Oh my God.’_  Well. They made no secret that Vincent’s father was a Fire Demon. Obviously, he took after dear ol’ Dad.

       No one seemed especially surprised or dismayed by Vincent’s display of fireworks. In fact, the foxes jumped up and down excitedly and threw more snowballs for him to blow up. They all seemed to be laughing and enjoying the game. Vincent finally appeared to run out of steam, misfiring a little puff of smoke and plopping down into the snow, steam billowed up from his hands where his palms melted the snow. The two foxes squatted around him, their tails twitching. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but whatever it was it made Vincent grin.

        _‘He’s a cute kid,’_ she thought with some small measure of wistfulness.

       “Thanks. We think so too,” came a voice from beside her.

       She squeaked and spun her head around to see Izzy standing there.

       “I really hate it when people do that. And how come you can move silently? You’re human,” she complained.

       Izzy shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

       “Did you just Jump in here?”

       “Guilty. I felt your mind in here and decided to pop in to see how you were doing.”

       “I’m fine. Eric gave me a day spa for this afternoon.”

       Izzy grinned, a wicked glint in her eyes. “Oooh. Nice. Mia and I signed up for the family massage package the last time we were here. It was great.”

       “How often do you come here?” she asked curiously.

       Izzy didn’t answer right away. Instead she looked out the window and Sookie followed her line of sight. Maria had joined Vincent, and mother and son were laughing, playing in the snow. A glance back to Izzy showed her looking wistful and sad.

       “We try to come here a couple of times a year. It’s nice to have a break,” Izzy finally replied.

       “Yeah, I hear that. I haven’t had a  _vacation_  vacation in years,” she admitted.

       “This trip doesn’t count?”

       She winced, remembering how Izzy and Maria knew everything about her and Eric, and their reasons for coming to the island.

       “No. Not really,” she said.

       “Eric came to see us before he left the island this morning,” Izzy told her.

       She did a double-take and stared at the woman. “He did?”

       Izzy nodded. “Mia asked him to. There were a few things she wanted to talk to him about before you left tonight.”

       “Oh. So he went to your cabin after he left me.”

       Izzy nodded. “I helped him get to the mainland. I know the dock at Marquette so I was able to Jump him there. He was going to fly across the open water. That would have been a cold trip, so I Jumped him.”

       “Wasn’t that very far to go?” she asked.

       “I’ve Jumped farther. Besides, he was being pretty ambitious, and he was going to need all the help he could get. He’s got a taste for grand plans, that one. Jumping him shaved 45 minutes off his trip.”

       “Do you know what he needed to get that he couldn’t find here?” she questioned innocently, daring to send out a mental tendril.

       Izzy closed off her mind immediately and gave her a wry smile. “No peeking. And yes, I do know, but I’m not telling. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

       “Am I going to like the surprise?”

       “That depends on how you look at it. If you look at it in the spirit that it’s being given, and you remember where he is coming from, then yeah, I think you’ll like it. If you get too caught up in the modern worldview of male-female relations, then you might not be so pleased with it,” Izzy answered.

       “Oh. Well, that’s really helpful,” she complained.

       “Thanks. I try.”

       “So what did Maria need to talk to him about?”

       “Some things we saw when the bond was open yesterday. You both were showing us things, but neither of you could see what the other was sending. The whole bit about you not being able to read non-human minds is weird.”

       “Do you know why I can’t read vamp minds at all, and why Supe minds are all fuzzy instead of clear?”

       Izzy shook her head. “I couldn’t gauge it. Best I can tell, it’s got something to do with  _how_  you read minds, and how you  _listen_. Your Gift is natural, mine is trained. I had my fourth and sixth charkas specifically opened and attuned in order to become a better telepath. It’s possible that if you were to get the same attunements, you’d be able to read any mind you wanted. The reverse would also apply. If you wanted to block someone, you could. Right now, you’re pretty untrained. If you get further into using your talent that could get dangerous. You ought to find someone to teach you how to shield, block and project. You’ve got an impressive range from what I could tell. You’ve got the potential to be a formidable telepath of you want to develop your Gift.”

       She shuddered and shook her head. “Uhh, no. My little handicap gets me into enough trouble as it is. I don’t want to read Supe minds, and if vampires found out I could read them they’d kill me. No, I’m happy just reading human minds, thank you.”

       Izzy shrugged again. “Suit yourself.”

       “Are you two leaving today?”

       Izzy shook her head. “Nah. We decided to stay until Friday. Turns out Mia wasn’t ready to leave either.”

       “Isn’t Vincent in school? Won’t he be missing too many days?” she blurted without thinking. Arlene always fretted when the kids had to miss a day or two.

       Izzy gave her an incredulous look. “The kid throws fireballs out of his hands. Do you think he goes to a  _human_  school?”

       She blushed. “Oh, sorry, dumb barmaid.”

       “There’s nothing dumb about you, but it might help you if people think you’re stupid. They’ll overlook you, and not consider you a threat until it’s too late,” the woman observed shrewdly.

       She didn’t answer, but the look they shared said everything.

       “So… did Maria and Eric work out when you will be coming to Fangtasia?” she asked.

       “We didn’t talk business.”

       “Oh.”

       She wanted to ask what they had talked about because it no doubt involved her, but she didn’t want to appear nosy.

       “He’s very attached to you. His capacity to feel is strong for a vampire his age. They usually inure themselves to human emotions and mortal attachments purely as a survival mechanism. A vampire who can’t separate himself from the mortal world will usually go insane after a few centuries. I’m sure you can imagine what it must be like for them to live forever while everything else around them dies. Some can’t handle it,” Izzy told her.

       She swallowed, clenching her fists lightly, and nodded. “Is Eric…”

       “He’s a survivor. There are some things in his past…” Izzy stopped, her face very thoughtful, then she shook her head and continued. “He’s been through a lot, and he has a very highly developed sense of intuition. He reads people very well. He almost predicted the Nevada vamp takeover. He did predict a takeover, actually, but he’d pegged the source wrong. He was expecting an attack from the Eastern vampires, not Western. He didn’t factor Quinn into the equation. He thought the tiger would never betray you. He was wrong, and, believe me, he’s seething about it.”

       It was a warning: Tell Quinn to watch his back because Eric the Northman has him on his shitlist. She nodded that she got it. Izzy leveled her with a sober look.

       “When you renew the bond, it will be very strong; stronger than most blood-bonds. His age, your telepathy, his intuition. The two of you are going to be a formidable force. There are going to be some individuals who are going to be  ** _very_**  nervous.”

       Izzy sat down across from her and took her hands. She steeled herself for whatever was coming and gripped the woman’s palms tightly.

_‘Listen to me very carefully. When the bond is fully set and matured, the two of you will be able to act as one. You will be able to channel his strength, and he will be able to channel your gift. **It is in your best interests not to advertize this.**_ _Eric agrees. You will eventually be able to read each other’s minds as your blood becomes more and more intermingled, but that will take time. You’ve already gotten a glimpse into his head, and he’s seen into yours, although he doesn’t realize that yet. Your bond is in its infancy; it must be nurtured and protected until the two of you are strong enough to defend yourselves.’_

       Her heart was pounding, and she could feel the sweat breaking out along her forehead as she digested Izzy’s warning. She could feel herself starting to quiver, and her mouth start pulling back into a grin. Izzy squeezed her hands and forced her to focus.

_‘If you are threatened, and you fear for your lives, **come here**_ _. No one will attack this place. It’s too heavily guarded, and too revered. Elena may be weakened, but she is still a goddess, and there are a number of deities who call this place home. Anyone who brings evil here is going to get bitchslapped into the next dimension._

_‘This protection is why we come here. Vincent’s father has many enemies. We are constantly under siege from those who want to get to Zolan through us. We come here because no one will bother us here. Let this island be your sanctuary. You’ve been welcomed back and, frankly, Elena likes Eric. Use that alliance. It will save your lives.’_

       “Okay. Okay, we will. We’ll come here,” she promised.

_‘Good. In the meantime, keep your heads down and work on your bond. Tell **no one**_ _what you can do. The less others know about your bond, the better. Let them think it’s just a strong blood-bond because Eric’s so old.’_

       She nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

       They looked at each other, and it seemed that Izzy wanted to say more, but Toth was delivering breakfast so she kept silent.

        _‘Good luck. You’re gonna need it,_ ’ was the last thing the woman said before she blipped out of sight.

       Toth set down her food, and she had enough presence of mind to thank him before she went into her own thoughts again. Suddenly, she wasn’t hungry anymore, but she forced herself to eat. She nibbled away at the eggs as she watched Izzy join Maria and Vincent outside in the snow. She saw the little family clustered together, smiling and laughing, and she felt a little pang. She would never have Eric’s baby.

       That was something she was just going to have to get used to. No babies for Sookie Stackhouse. Was what she was gaining worth what she was giving up? Did she even have a choice anymore? If everything she was hearing from Eric and Izzy was true, the answer was no. Unless someone killed Eric (never!) they were stuck with each other, and vamps couldn’t father children. That was okay, sort of. She never knew what kind of mom she would have been.

       But that didn’t mean her heart didn’t ache a little when she saw Vincent jump into Maria’s arms and kiss her on the cheek. She lowered her eyes and ate her food, but for once the meal wasn’t delicious. It was only sustenance.

      

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       The gift certificate Eric had left her said to show up for her spa appointment fifteen minutes early, so she presented herself to the spa’s check-in desk precisely at 12:45pm after dropping off the books at the library.  _Aegle’s_ was in the same building as  _Nike’s_ , but on the lower level and attached to the indoor pool area. She could smell the chemicals from the pool water, and the air was humid.

       The receptionist for the spa appeared to be part reptile because she had faintly scaled skin and slitted yellow eyes. She was getting used to all the weirdness so she didn’t bat an eye when the woman gave her a clipboard with a two-page questionnaire to fill out. She answered the general health questions, made her selection on the type of massage she wanted (Swedish, Shiatsu, Sports, Deep Tissue, Aromatherapy…) and listed her preferences regarding her facial, scrub and nail treatments. Once she was finished filling it out, she handed it to the receptionist and sat down to wait for someone to call her. She was the only one in the waiting room, and she wondered why the spa was all booked up when it didn’t look all that busy. Maybe the other appointments all started earlier.

       About ten minutes later, the door at the other end of the waiting room opened and a woman in a purple and gold long tunic and loose pants stepped out. It looked Indian, and so did she. Her black hair was very, very long, and the woman had it braided in a think braid, but it still reached her waist, Her skin was a rich brown, almost the color of caramel, and her eyes were slightly slanted and black. She had a vivid blue jewel pressed to her forehead. She had four arms, each one adorned with many bangles and beads.

       “Sookie Stackhouse?”

       She gulped and stood. “I’m Sookie.”

       The woman smiled warmly and held out one of her hands. “I am Surima. I will be your masseuse today.”

       Wow. A four-armed massage therapist. Must be the perfect occupation for her. Sookie gathered herself and stood up to join Surima at the spa door.

       “Thank you.”

       “Welcome to  _Aegle’s_. Have you ever been to a spa before?” the woman asked pleasantly as she guided Sookie through the door and down a long hallway.

       “Umm, no. This is my first time.”

       “Excellent. I hope you enjoy your spa treatments.”

       The first room she was guided to was a locker room. It looked like a standard locker room with rows of lockers and benches, and she could hear the sound of running water, so she guessed the showers were close by. There was a rack of thick bathrobes, and Surima grabbed one and handed it to her.

       “Please store your clothes in one of the lockers. There is no need to worry about their safety. There is no theft on Isle Elena,” Surima informed. “When you are finished undressing, please put on this robe, and go to the solarium at the end of the locker room. I’ll be waiting for you there.”

       Sookie accepted the robe with trepidation. “Do I need to take all of my clothes off?” she asked, embarrassed.

       “For the massage and spa treatments, you may undress to your comfort level, but no clothing is permitted in the baths,” Surima answered.

       Sookie blushed and felt like an idiot, but she thanked Surima and started peeling off her clothes as soon as the woman left the room. She was still the only one around, and she hurried to get undressed before anyone came in. She took off her shirt, bra, jeans and socks, then bit her lip and took off the panties too. She stuffed everything into the closest empty locker and put on the robe. It was the thickest, warmest bathrobe she’d ever worn, and she wondered what it was made of.

       The solarium was very hot and steam clouded the glass walls. It was furnished with comfortable chairs and chaises, and soft music was piped in from somewhere. Outside the solarium, she could see the terraces of the outdoor pool and the canyon-themed landscaping. Feeling a little exposed, she chose a chair away from the windows and sat down to wait for Surima. She didn’t have to wait long.

       “Are you ready, Ms. Stackhouse?” the woman asked, coming into the room from a side entrance a few minutes later.

       “Please call me Sookie,” she corrected as she rose to her feet.

       “Sookie. Please follow me.”

       “Thank you,” she said, following along obediently as Surima led her from the solarium to a warm, softly lit room with a massage table in the center.

       “You’ve chosen an Aromatherapy massage. Please choose the scents you would like me to use,” Surima said, offering her a large basket full of scented massage oils and lotions.

       “Oh my…” she replied, looking at the sheer number of choices available. “What would you suggest?”

       “You are here with a vampire, yes?”

       She winced. Did everyone know who she was and whom she was dating?

       “Aside from Ms. Piazzi and her family, you are the only other human on the island. You’re a bit of a novelty,” Surima commented with a wry smile.

       “Am I that obvious?” she blurted.

       “Only to us. It’s amusing, actually. You’re so sweet and polite, but you really need to relax. Maybe that’s why your vampire sent you here.”

       She smiled nervously. “Maybe. What scents do you think a vampire might like?”

       Surima smiled back, and the smile actually relaxed her a bit, as the woman held the basket in two of her hands, while a third perused the bottles.

       “Hmmm… hmmm…” Surima murmured as she sifted through the selections. Finally she chose two from the literally dozens of options. “This one, and this one.”

       She handed Sookie the two bottles and Sookie read the labels: amber and sandalwood.

       “Both are earthy smells that are not too pungent. In my country, snakes love the sandalwood trees. They wrap themselves around the branches just to be close to the scent,” Surima explained.

       “You’re from India?”

       “Bengal,” the woman corrected gently.

       “Oh. That’s near India, right?”

       Surima chuckled and nodded. “Yes. It’s close.”

       “Please disrobe and lie down on the table. I will cover you with this sheet,” Surima said, putting down the basket and picking up a crisp, white sheet.

       “On my back or my stomach?”

       “Back for now. I will be starting with the nail treatments on your hands and feet and your facial. The body scrub will come next, and then we will finish with the massage and send you to the mineral bath.”

       “Okay.”

       Feeling a little self-conscious, she slipped off the robe and hung it on a peg on the wall, then she moved to place herself on the massage table.

       “You need to relax,” Surima admonished gently, covering her from her neck to her ankles with the sheet. The covering was thin, and at least now she knew why the room was kept so warm.

       “I’m trying,” she replied.

       Surima made a small noise, then Sookie heard a click somewhere near one of the walls. Shortly thereafter, soft new age music filled the room.

       “Concentrate on the music and let me take care of everything else,” the masseuse said quietly, her voice soothing.

       “Okay.”

       “The first thing I’m going to do is clean your face with a gentle astringent to remove dirt from your pores,” Surima explained, and began wiping Sookie’s face with a pad soaked in something that smelled like green tea.

       For the next two hours, Surima applied a thick facial mask, soaked Sookie’s hands and feet in paraffin, massaged and cleansed her face, and scrubbed her entire body with a gentle salt scrub. They spoke quietly. Surima asked questions about where Sookie lived and her life in Louisiana, and Sookie asked about Surima’s life and how she had come to be a masseuse at  _Aegle’s._

       Surima was competent and gentle to the point where Sookie forgot there were four hands working on her instead of two, and soon she was completely relaxed. When Surima was done applying the salt scrub to her arms, chest and calves, she asked Sookie to turn over, and she rolled over, not even thinking about her nakedness, and allowed the woman to scrub her back and thighs, then she was wrapped in warm, moist towels for ten minutes before Surima used the towels to wipe off the scrub. Afterwards, Sookie felt fresh and clean, her skin soft and rejuvenated. It was one of the most amazing experiences she had ever enjoyed, and she was already thinking of all the ways she was going to thank Eric for his wonderful gift.

       When everything but the massage and mineral bath were done, Surima gave Sookie a little break, encouraging her to sit up and drink a cup of tea. It was some kind of herbal blend meant to relax and clarify the mind. She had no idea what was in it, but it tasted good. She finished the tea and lay back down again so Surima could begin the 90-minute massage. She smelled the scents of sandalwood and amber, then felt the strong, warm palms gliding over her skin, and she sighed with happiness. Everything felt so good and wonderful.

       At some point during the massage, she drifted away from herself, and she entered that state of relaxation between waking and dreaming where her mind wandered and slipped into a higher state. She had no real awareness of where she was floating until she felt the brush of another mind against hers.

 _‘Sookie?’_  came a cautious mindvoice. It sounded just like her Viking.

_‘Eric?’_

       There was moment of confusion, then a rush of warmth and welcome. She felt him reaching out to her, their bodies had no form where they were, but yet she felt him “touching” her, and his big hands enfolded hers as he drew her close. She felt safe and deeply loved, and she realized that they had joined in the bond. She could tell because there was still a sore spot where the bond had yet to heal. No matter. It would be healed tonight.

        _‘Are you here with me?’_  he asked.

       ‘ _I guess. Where are we?’_

        _‘Between,’_  he answered, and in her heightened state she understood perfectly.

       ‘ _Are we dreaming?’_

_‘Sharing a dream. It’s daytime, isn’t it?’_

_‘Yes.’_

_‘Is it sunny?’_

_‘Yeah.’_

_‘Isn’t the sunlight on snow beautiful?’_  he asked. He sounded wistful.

        _‘Yes, it is,’_  she agreed.

        _‘Show me?’_

_‘How?’_

_‘Just remember what you saw and I’ll see through your eyes. We’re linked here. No barriers now.’_

_‘Okay._ ’ She brought up the memories of the clearing in front of their cabin, all white and sparkling in the sun. She remembered all the snow sculptures and the snow-laden trees, and the contrast of the snowy beach against the water.

        _‘Oooh. It’s so beautiful. Thank you.’_  His “arms” came around her, and she felt their bodies twining around each other.  _‘I never missed the sunlight until I met you. I would love to see you in sunlight. Real sunlight not that artificial light they have in these times. I know you would be as radiant as the sun itself.’_

_‘I wish we could go out in daytime too.’_

_‘We have the nights. Countless numbers of them. And I will make them all worthwhile.’_

He kissed her and she felt his “lips” just as surely as of they were really together in the waking world. She yielded to him, allowing herself to sink into the bond and his love. It was like being submerged in a warm bath after a night out in the cold.

        _‘Where are you?’_  she asked.

        _‘Michigan. I’m making my way back to you.’_ She caught a memory of a dank cellar somewhere. It smelled of neglect and rotting wood.

_‘Are you safe where you are?’_

_‘Oh yes. Perfectly safe. You have no need to worry for me, my lover.’_

       She hated to admit that she was worried, but he was somewhere far away in an unknown basement somewhere. He laughed and kissed her again.

_‘And where are you, my sleepyhead, if you are joining me here in my dream?’_

_‘At the spa. I’m getting my massage.’_

_‘Ah. Are you enjoying yourself?’_

_‘Mm hmm. I’m planning all the ways I’m going to thank you when I see you again.’_

_‘That sounds… delightful. I’ll have to give you roses and spa treatments more often if it earns me your… rewards.’_  She could imagine the leer on his face.

 _‘Not too often. It’s nice to save some things for special occasions. And I’d be upset with you if you spent too much money on me. It’s nice to be pampered on occasion, but I don’t want to be spoiled,’_  she warned sternly.

_‘Of course. But I reserve the right to lavish my attentions on you whenever I wish.’_

       He dipped his head between her breasts, and she felt his tongue lick across her skin.

        _‘Stop that. We aren’t even in our bodies and you’re trying to jump me.’_

_‘All of my dreams are sexual fantasies of you. Can you blame me for taking advantage when I have you here with me?’_

_‘I guess not, but I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of a stranger.’_

_‘Oh? Do you think I am making you moan in your sleep?’_

       She slapped him on the arm, but didn’t try to get away.  _‘You are impossible.’_

_‘I know. But you love me anyway.’_

       She sighed.  _‘Yeah. I do,’_  she admitted.

_‘That was easy.’_

_‘We’re not in our bodies. It doesn’t count.’_

       She regretted it the moment she said it because she felt his pain so keenly, and she scrambled to comfort him.

 _‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,’_  she apologized, feeling guilty.

_‘Why must you reject me? Am I not good to you? Do I not treat you well and show that you have value to me? Is this not what made you love me so much when I was not myself?’_

She could hear the anguish in his voice and it cut into her like a sharp knife.

 _‘Loving you scares me, Eric,’_ she said. There was no dishonesty in the bond.

_‘Why? I am a good man. I hold you in my highest esteem. You know that I would sacrifice everything for you if you so desired.’_

_‘See? That’s scary. That you’d do that. You’re a thousand years old. You’ve fought hard to get where you are, but you’d give it all up if I said so. What kind of love is that? What kind of a girlfriend would I be if I asked that of you? Bill would never give up his work for me. Why you?’_  she countered, letting her own insecurity come into the bond.

_‘Bill is a fool. He was never worthy of you. I knew that the moment I met you.’_

_‘How was I to know that? I’d never been worth anything to anyone, Well… except my Gran and I ended up getting her killed.’_

_‘You did not kill your grandmother. A murderous psychopath killed your grandmother,’_  he corrected.

_‘Is that supposed to make me feel better? If I hadn’t been dating Bill, Rene would have left Gran alone and she’d still be alive. It’s my fault.’_

_‘It is not your fault. The man was insane. You had no way of knowing she would be in danger. The killer had previously targeted young women who slept with vampires. Your grandmother did not fit either of those criteria.’_

_‘Yeah, but **I**_ _did. I should have known I’d be a target. I just thought Bill would protect me. I never thought he’d target Gran…’_

       Her grief was terrible and she clung to him. He accepted her even though she’d just hurt him, and held her close.

_‘I would have hunted him down for hurting you. I would have scoured the house and lawn for any trace of his scent. I can track better than any vampire I know. I would have found him, killed him and placed his head on a platter for you.’_

_‘Eww. But thank you for the sentiment.’_

_‘You’re welcome. And as for you not being worth anything… you are worth everything to me. Do you not know what you have done for me? Have I not told you a hundred times and tried to show you over and over? You make me happy. I have not been happy for centuries. Being with you makes me complete. I am empty without you.’_

       She was starting to cry again, and she was sure she was crying back in her body, but there was nothing she could do.

        _‘Stop. Please, stop,’_  she begged,

_‘No. You **will**_ _hear me again. Here in the bond where we are one, and you cannot deny me. I love you. I will not leave you. I will not get tired of you. I will not grow bored with you. I will not cheat on you. I will not replace you. You can ask anything of me. If it is within my power to provide, it will be yours. I will care for you and protect you. You will want for nothing. If there comes a time when I must choose between my empire or you, I will choose you, without hesitation or regret. I_ **_love_ ** _you. You are my blood-bonded. I am yours for as long as we both live, and_ **_nothing_ ** _is going to change that. Now get that through your_ **_thick_ ** **_skull,_ ** _you irritating woman!’_

       The last made her laugh and she stopped crying.

_‘Eric. How can you put up with me? I must be the most difficult woman on the planet.’_

_‘I love a good challenge. And you’re really quite delightful when you aren’t being stubborn. Not to mention smart, beautiful, hardworking, loyal, creative…’_

_‘Got great breasts…’_  she interrupted.

       ‘ _Of course. I look forward to fondling them and having my way with them tonight along with the rest of you.’_

       She sighed.  _‘Eric…’_

_‘Yes, my lover?’_

_‘You know I do love you, right?’_

_‘Of course.’_

_‘Okay. Just so you know.’_

_‘I’ve never doubted it, even for a minute. The very fact that you fought so hard against me proved it. You only run when you’re afraid of your feelings.’_

_‘How’d you get to know me so well?’_

_‘I am an astute student of humanity.’_

_‘Or something.’_

       There was a tugging at her consciousness, and she gathered that she was about to wake up.

_‘Uh, Eric. I think it’s time for me to go.’_

_‘Yes,’_  he admitted with some disappointment.

_‘Will I remember this dream?’_

_‘I don’t know. I’ll probably remember bits of it.’_ He sighed and kissed her. ‘ _I love you. Being away from you is terrible for me. I cannot wait to be with you again. When we are together, I will show you with words and deeds how much I appreciate you.’_

       The pull was getting stronger, and she felt herself slipping out of his hold.  _‘I’ll see you tonight.’_

_‘I’ll be there as soon as I can, my lover.’_

       He gave her one last kiss and let her go. She felt her soul snap back into her body and a moment later she opened her eyes to see Surima looking down at her.

       “Oh,” she blurted, blinking. She was disoriented and the light hurt her eyes for a moment.

       “You’re back.”

       “Did I go somewhere?” She had a vague memory of seeing Eric.

       “Yes. You left your body for about forty minutes.”

       “I did?”

       “Yes.”

       “Where’d I go?”

       “Obviously to be with your bonded. It is difficult to miss the touch of the Beloved.”

       The touch of the Beloved. She hoped that didn’t mean what she thought it meant.

       “Ummm. I’m sorry if I fell asleep on you,” she apologized, blushing.

       Surima smiled. “It is a high compliment.”

       “Is the massage over?”

       “Yes. Now it is time for you to wash off any residual massage oil and go soak in your mineral bath.”

       “Oh. Ok, great.”

       She sat up as Surima offered her the bathrobe again, and she slipped it on. Surima gave her another cup of the herbal tea, and she drank it as they walked from the massage room, back to the locker room. Surima showed her where the showers were, gave her a bar of gentle soap, and told her to go back to the solarium when she was finished washing. She was feeling really incredible, all relaxed and happy as she washed off the remnants of the oil, noting that her skin still smelled faintly of amber and sandalwood. She hoped Eric would like the scent.

       Ten minutes later she was back in the solarium waiting for Surima to come get her. Five minutes later, her masseuse appeared in the doorway and she followed her down the hall to a large room full of spas and bathtubs sunken into the tiled floor. The room was extremely hot and humid, and she could barely see through the steam as Surima led her to one of the sunken tubs. It was already full and frothing, steam rising up from the hot water.

       “There is a lounge seat in the tub. Lie down on it and relax. I’ll come get you in half an hour,” Surima told her, giving her a bathcap for her hair.

       “Oh. Thank you,” she answered, accepting the cap and putting it on her head.

       “You’re welcome. Enjoy your soak.”

       “Oh, I will,” she assured her, and took off the robe so she could step into the deep tub. The water was hot! Hot! Hot! But she managed it, and lowered herself down to stretch out on the submerged lounge. The water smelled of minerals and ozone as she rested her head against the built in pillow. It was heavenly.

       As she lay there up to her neck in hot, bubbling water, she thought back on the day and on the entire trip altogether. Eric had gone out of his way to provide them with a safe place to explore their feelings for each other and come to an understanding. It hadn’t been easy, and they’d hurt each other pretty badly, but now they seemed ready to move forward, and the coming events of the evening would be the first steps they took as a united pair. Somehow, coming to terms with that reality, and her part that decision, helped her see more clearly, and she was able to understand many things about herself and the relationship she was willingly entering into with a 1000-yr old vampire. Eric was going to be so happy when he got back,

       The mineral bath did everything it promised, and she felt like a new woman when she left the spa. She was polished and scrubbed, and her nails on her hands and feet were perfect, and her skin felt soft and smooth, and all her aches and pains were massaged and soaked away. She hadn’t felt so good since the massage Eric had given her in the shower on the night they slept together for the first time. What made today even better was that she got to keep the amazingly soft and fluffy bathrobe. Apparently, it was included with the package. Bonus. If Eric hadn’t requested that she wear the blue dress, she would have met him wearing the robe and nothing else.

       It was almost six when she was finished, so she went back to the cabin to grab a quick bite to eat from the leftover lunchmeat in the fridge before she got herself ready for her Viking’s return. She made up a sandwich and washed it down with a glass of wine, before making her way up the stairs to the loft bedroom. Surima had given her a small container of body butter scented with the sandalwood and amber essential oils and told her to rub it on her skin before she got dressed. She sat on the bed, noting that it was made with fresh, clean sheets, and rubbed the moisturizing crème into her skin, starting with her feet and working her way up. She rubbed a little on her breasts, and on her abdomen, and even her throat and behind her ears. No matter where he licked or kissed, Eric was going to smell the sandalwood and amber oils. She really hoped he liked it.

       She left her hair down, but she curled it a little, make it fall in soft waves over her shoulders, and she applied only a smattering of makeup because she knew Eric liked her au naturale. Literally. She debated whether or not to wear underwear, before settling on a pair of blue thong panties Tara had thrown into the bag with the dress she’d bought at Tara’s clothing store. Tara had argued that there was so little of them, they couldn’t be considered actual underwear and they wouldn’t leave a line. Then she put on her thigh-high hose. No sense in putting on regular pantyhose since such things were the first things to get ripped off by an amorous vampire. She’d lost more pairs of Leggs that way.

       The last thing she put on was the dress itself. She took it out of its protective bag and laid it reverently on the bed, taking a minute to admire it, then she slipped it over her head and marveled how it fit her like it had been made for her. And then she wondered if it  ** _had_**  been made for her. She would have to ask Eric. Later.

       By 6:45pm, she was coiffed, primped, dressed and antsy. She obeyed Eric’s request and put the lit hurricane lamp out on the balcony. By 6:50pm, she felt Eric getting closer and her palms started to itch. Eric was coming. Eric was coming. She fought the urge to race down the stairs and run out into the cold dressed in her evening gown. What a headline that would be, ‘Stupid LA Barmaid Freezes to Death on Lake Superior Island. Went out in subzero temperature wearing evening gown. At least she went out in style. Details at Eleven.’

       She knew the moment he set foot on the island because the joy was almost overwhelming. By now she was pacing like a caged animal, waiting to hear the knock on the door. She was terrified she’d trip on one of her shoes and fall down the stairs, she was so nervous. She wondered what was taking him so long.

        _‘Hey, you there?’_  Izzy’s voice broke into her nervous thoughts.

       ‘ _Yes!’_ Didn’t she know  ** _Eric_**  was coming? Couldn’t she leave them alone? And what was taking Eric so long anyway? She went to the top of the stairs, wringing her hands.

        _‘I got a message from Loverboy. He says he sees the lamp. He wants you to stay upstairs and wait until he calls you down. He has a few things he needs to set up in the living room.’_

 _‘Oh.. ummm. Okay. Tell him I said okay._ ’ He was getting closer, she could feel it. Her nervous sweating made her quiver.

_‘Will do. I hope you two have a nice night. Hey do you have a safeword?’_

_‘What’s a safeword?’_

_‘It’s a word mutually agreed upon before rough sex or bondage that if one partner says it, all play stops,’_ Izzy informed her to her deep embarrassment.

_‘What!’_

_‘Anyway, if you do have a safeword, let me know what it is because with all the screaming and moaning you two get up to, I might not know if you’re actually in trouble unless I hear you say your safeword.’_

_‘We have no safeword! I’m not into that whole kinky tie me up and whip me thing.’_

       Izzy laughed. ‘ _No, you’re just bedding a vampire. I just love irony. Anyway, I’ll give him the message.’_

       She wanted to say thank you, but the connection was cut off. In the meantime, she went back to pacing until she heard the cabin door open. Eric was back! She rushed to the top of the stairs but did not step down.

       “Eric? Is that you?”

       “Yes, my lover. Please stay where you are,” came his voice. The sound made her heart beat faster.

       “I got Izzy’s message. I’m not coming down.”

       “Thank you. I’ll be a few minutes, Dear One, but I’ll call you just as soon as I’m ready.”

       “Okay.”

       She paced and waited. She checked her hair and make-up. She made sure her dress was showing off just enough cleavage to flatter her boobs. Every now and then, she heard a scrape or a thud, but Eric didn’t speak, and she had no idea what he was up to. Izzy had mentioned something about ambitious plans, and that only made her more nervous.

       Finally at about 7:30pm, Eric called to her from the bottom of the loft stairs.

       “You may come down now, my lover.”

       She tried not to run down the stairs as she checked herself one last time and headed down the steps. She stopped short and stared when she got to the bottom and could see what he had done.

       The cabin living room was awash in candlelight, and the fire was lit in the hearth, providing more golden light. Every flat surface capable of holding a candle or a vase had either a lit candle or a flower arrangement on it: roses, lilies, assortments of bright, fragrant blooms. There must have been literally hundreds of flowers in vases all around the room, and the cabin was full of their beauty and sweet scent.

       But nothing was more beautiful than the man who was waiting for her by the hearth. Dressed in traditional Viking regalia, he had his hair sectioned so that two long braids came over his shoulders while the rest of his hair went free and brushed out to a gleaming gold. He wore a brilliant royal blue tunic with embroidery at the neck and cuffs, and a pair of dark, brown leather pants with high, fur-lined boots. He had a long wool cloak pinned across his shoulders by a heavy brooch, and he had the biggest sword she had ever seen strapped to the wide belt around his waist.

       When he saw her, he teared up and offered her his hand from where he was standing.

       “Come to me, my lover,” he commanded gently.

       How could she refuse when he’d put it so softly, and the cabin was full of his amazing gifts? She gave him a warm and happy smile, and stepped across the living room to join him in front of the fireplace.

 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

  
_Chapter Fourteen_

       It was impossible to describe the joy she felt at seeing him again, and she knew her happiness was not merely because of the bond. Ambitious plans indeed! Where had he gotten those clothes? Where had he gotten that  ** _sword_**? He looked amazing. She could feel her body reacting to the sheer beauty of him, recognizing him as a true alpha-male and ready to submit. Jesus, Shepherd of Judea, those  ** _pants_** …

       He stopped her and held her at arm’s length, looking her over thoroughly with his eyes. He was rumbling with pleasure, his eyes aglow, and she started to speak, but he placed a finger on her lips to silence her. Then he touched her with his fingertips, lightly, reverently, brushing feather-soft along her skin as he traced her face, her hair, her neck. She arched her throat, offering, and was rewarded with a throaty growl just before he bent his head and placed a lingering kiss on her jugular. His fangs were down but he did not bite.

       He breathed deep, smelling her, pressing his nose to the soft spot behind her ear. She felt his eyelashes brushing against her skin. Her whole body was quivering with excitement, gooseflesh pimpling her skin. Her nipples were hard and straining against the built-in bra in the dress.

       “You smell incredible,” he whispered, his cool breath blowing across her earlobe. The sex in his voice made her shiver. “You smell of sandalwood and amber and earth and arousal.”

       “Eric…”

       “Shhhhhhh.”

       He pulled away just enough to look her in the eyes, their faces so close she could count the pores on his nose, and she almost stopped breathing for the intensity in them. He seemed to realize what he was doing, because he dropped his gaze, releasing her and allowing her to breathe again. She drew a great, shuddering breath as his fingertips traced down the length of her bare arms to lightly clasp her hands.

       “Your skin is like silk,” he murmured. “Your nails are perfect.”

       He raised her hands to his face and marveled at her manicure. Surima had painted her nails a light silvery white to augment the silver and white beads on her dress.

       “Perfect,” he breathed and kissed her fingers, letting his lips linger on her knuckles.

       She cracked. She yanked her hands from his, threw her arms around his neck and kissed him as hard as she could. She heard him chuckle just before he got with the program, kissing her back as he cupped his hands behind the curve of her spine and pulled her close. She could feel something poking her, and she hoped it wasn’t the hilt of the sword.

       “Mmmm,” she heard her Viking croon. “You taste of sunlight and honey mead. Your very presence intoxicates me.”

       “Must be the fairy blood,” she teased, pressing against him, moaning when one hand caressed her ass while the other came up to palm her breast. He flicked his thumb over her nipple, and she almost sobbed.

       “I could torture you for that,” he scolded. “I could bring you right to the edge then back off, and, no matter how much you begged or cried, I would not let you come. I would keep you there, aching and wanting, until you were incoherent with need, and still I would not allow you to have release.”

       “Why would you punish me so terribly?” she asked, running her hands up his chest. The linen of his tunic felt crisp and clean.

       “To press my point. I do not love you because you are part fey. I love you because you are the most amazing woman I have ever met. You are radiant and beautiful, and I cannot get enough of you,” he said, claiming her mouth for another toe-curling kiss.

       Their lips and tongues dueled, but he did not seem too interested in taking things to the next level. She groaned and tried to urge him along, but he was being his typical deliberate self.

       “Do you renounce all ridiculous notions that I love you only because of how you taste and smell?” he asked when he pulled his mouth away.

       She gritted her teeth in frustration as he continued to play with her nipple, driving her insane. She threatened him with bodily harm. He just laughed.

       “Do you?” he pressed.

       “Ungh,” she moaned, rubbing against him as the lust buffeted her from all sides.

       “Do you?”

       “Y-yes,” she stammered, clinging to him.

       “Yes what?”

       “Yes, I renounce all the notions that you only love me because I’m part fairy.”

       “Very good. And here I thought I’d have to torture you for at least a little bit. You’ve ruined all my fun.”

       “Sorry. I hate to disappoint.”

       “You never disappoint, my lover.”

       His lips were at her throat again and she arched, stretching her neck out as far as possible, but once again he did not bite; he only licked along the vein making her tremble.

       “Eric,” she complained.

       “So impatient, my lover. Don’t you know some things are not meant to be rushed?”

       He was teasing her and loving every minute of it. She groaned and slid her hand around his body, slipping her palm under the tunic to cup his ass. The leather pants were buttery soft, and she kneaded his butt like a cat, purring with pleasure.

       “I’d rather take my time after I’ve gotten you out of these pants,” she answered.

       He chuckled and obligingly pushed his rump into her hand. “Like them, do you?”

       “They’re incredible. The whole outfit’s incredible. Where did you get it?”

       “The boots and cloak I got here. The tunic and trousers I bought at a Supe owned store in Duluth. After I left you, I chased the night west. I knew from the queen’s dealings with the northern vampire kingdoms that there was a flourishing demon market there. The second store I tried had what I was looking for, and I was back on my way to you by 6am. I made it as far as Ironwood before I had to seek shelter for the day,” he explained.

       “And the sword?” The sword that was preventing her from getting both hands on his gorgeous ass.

       “The sword and the brooch are mine. I had them shipped express post. They were waiting for me in Marquette when I got there.”

       That surprised her. “Did you call Pam and tell her to send them to you?”

       “No. As much as I am confident in my child’s loyalty, I would never entrust my most prized possessions to another vampire. My heirlooms are kept in a secure vault at a Supe owned establishment. Once I was back within cell phone range, I called them and gave them instructions on what I wanted and where to send it.”

       “Oh.”

       She stepped back to get a better look at him, paying close attention to the clasp on his cloak and the carved pommel of the sword. Both were intricately designed. The brooch was a large, round disk of brightly polished bronze. There was a stylized animal in the design, but she couldn’t tell if it was a horse or a dragon. The pommel of the sword was a large half-circle and there were complex carvings on it as well. Both had to be at least 1000 years old.

       “Eric, they’re beautiful.”

       He gave her a smile of genuine pride and pleasure. “Thank you.”

       “You really do look amazing,” she praised.

       “I wanted to look my best for you, on this night of all nights.”

       “I can honestly say that you have succeeded.”

       He smiled and kissed her again, softly, lovingly, but she was getting tired of the slow pace. She wanted to bond with him already so they could get to the clothes-coming-off part.

       “And you have exceeded my wildest expectations. You are radiant. I take it you enjoyed my gift?” he smoothed.

       “Very much so. I want the opportunity to thank you properly for your thoughtfulness.”

       He snickered low in his throat. “My beautiful Southern Belle. Always so gracious and polite. You charm me utterly.”

       “Obviously not enough because we’re not naked yet.”

       That made him roar with laughter and shake his head, grinning at her. “All in good time, my lover. Rest assured, I fully intend to fuck you in that dress, and then fuck you out of it, multiple times.”

       “Then we best get busy because we’re supposed to leave tonight,” she reminded, although she didn’t know exactly when they were supposed to check out.

       He grew a little serious and frowned, his eyes turning guilty. “I’ve done a bad thing,” he admitted.

       She sighed. “What did you do?”

       “I extended our stay here until tomorrow night without your knowledge or consent.”

       “I… see.”

       “I rationalized that you would not want to leave here so soon after our blood-bonding. I assumed that you would want time to… savor our union.” He put special emphasis on “savor,” and she shivered all over.

       “And what about my having to get back to work?” she questioned. She wasn’t really angry because she’d been thinking the same thing: that having to leave so soon after blood-bonding would put a damper on the evening.

       “I texted Pam and told her to tell your shifter we were snowed in by the November gale. No flights out until tomorrow night because they were still digging out the runways.”

       “Ah. You know, you’re such a conniving liar sometimes it scares me.”

       He grinned, preening. “I know. But I cannot lie to you, my lover. We are linked. Now you will know when I tell an untruth.”

       “I bet you’re so disappointed about that,” she teased.

       “No. What I am gaining is worth far more than what I’m losing. Are you mad at me now? Must I get back into your good graces before I can continue with my plan for the night?” he asked, giving her an apologetic look.

       “Can I be mad  ** _after_**  I get you out of those pants?”

       He smiled, showing all his teeth, even his fangs. “Lover, I intend to make you forget you were ever angry with me in the first place.”

       She stood on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. “I’m down with that.”

       He chuckled into her mouth, then let their tongues duel lazily. She allowed it, leaning into him and pressing close. Now that she knew there was no rush, the urgency she’d been feeling calmed down a little… but only a little. She was even more eager to get to the mind-blowing sex part of the night.

       “Eric…”

       He stepped away from her and took her hand, guiding her to stand in front of the fire where they faced each other. He held both of her hands and looked her right in the eye. The mood went from playful to deadly serious in an instant. This was it. She steeled herself and drew herself up to face him, waiting expectantly.

       “Sookie Stackhouse, do you love me?” he asked firmly.

       She took a deep breath and answered as quickly as her scrambling brain could muster. “Yes.”

       “Do you enter into this union willingly and of your own choosing?”

       “Yes.”

       He smiled and she felt his pleasure and joy triple in the bond.

       “I love you, Sookie Stackhouse, and I give my blood to you freely and willingly.”

       “I accept your blood and offer mine freely and willingly,” she replied.

       He nodded and she thought that they would now exchange blood. She moved to step closer so she could offer her neck, but he stopped her.

       “I would like to say a few words first,” he explained.

       She nodded that she understood and waited. He still held her hands, but now he looked at them and rubbed the back of her palms with his thumbs.

       “If we were alive, our fathers would have met to negotiate our marriage. A bride price would have been set for my family to pay to yours. The minimum would have been twelve ounces of silver, but I would have paid much, much more. For you I would have paid gold. I would have given a whole herd of cattle and horses. I would even have given a ship. I would have paid any price set for you in order to make you my wife.”

       And this was what Izzy had meant about taking his surprise in the spirit it was given. If she looked at it from a modern woman’s point of view, she would have been insulted to be “purchased,” but he was speaking from his heritage, telling her she was priceless.

       “I would have been honored,” she whispered, squeezing his hands to tell him that she understood.

       “We would have been wed on a Friday in honor of Frigga sometime after the spring thaw, and the celebration would have lasted a week. Our families would have spent many nights feasting and cavorting in drunken revelry. On our wedding day we would have been bathed and dressed in our finest. Your hair would have been left unbound and uncovered, and a crown of silver and crystal would have been set upon your head.”

       She tried to imagine it, but really couldn’t. She had no idea what a Viking woman would have looked like on her wedding day, but she could imagine that Eric would have looked exactly as he did tonight.

       “I would have been given an ancestral sword to present to you, and you would have had one for me. We would have exchanged swords, and I would have placed a ring upon your finger, and you would have placed one on mine.”

       It was hard for her to wrap her head around what was happening. They were essentially getting married right there in the cabin’s living room. Her bridal gown was the blue dress and his tuxedo was the tunic and leather pants. There were no attendants, no priest, no guests. It was just her and him, holding hands and looking into each other’s eyes as they committed themselves to each other.

       She half expected him to reach into a belt pouch or something to pull out a ring, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached to his own neck and lifted an amulet that appeared to be made of gold over his head.

       “I knew you would not accept a ring, so I give you this instead.”

       The pendant was a rectangle and on it were the stylized images of a man and a woman embracing in a kiss. The carving was crude, and she wondered how old it was as he slipped the chain over her head and let the amulet come to rest just above the valley of her breasts. She touched it gingerly. It was cool like his skin.

       “Eric…”

       “It is the sacred marriage of Freyr and Gerda. It is a token of my love and my commitment to you.”

       “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”

       She knew she should be scared and uncertain because she hadn’t really promised to marry him, but there was nothing official about the ceremony, no wedding record or marriage certificate, and his confidence and happiness were feeding hers. It was possible that this was all she would ever have: this moment, these words, this man pledging himself to her. It was so intensely private that she was grateful that they were alone. What they were feeling was too deep and too big for witnesses.

       She was getting all choked up and teary, and she knew she was going to start crying any minute. Looking at him, she could see he was on the verge of tears too, his eyes rimmed with red. She saw him lick his lip and nod to himself, then he took a deep breath, stepped back and drew the sword. The blade gleamed in the firelight, flashing bright and deadly.

       “Place your hand over mine,” he instructed a little shakily as he offered the sword, pommel first.

       She obeyed and curled her fingers around his on the hilt. They locked eyes, and he spoke in a steady, earnest voice.

       “On this day I pledge myself to you. My sword is yours. My hearth is yours. I will share all I have with you. I will provide for you and shelter you from the cold. I will defend you against all enemies. I will bring you to my side, and all those who owe me fealty will honor you. This I swear in Thorr’s name, and on my honor I will keep these sacred vows.”

       She swallowed hard and fought back the tears, sniffling. “Do I say anything?” she asked.

       “Typically you would have made the appropriate vows of honor and fidelity,” he replied.

       She nodded that she understood. “Eric, I promise to love you and honor you. From this day forward, to have and to hold, for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others for as long as we both shall live. Amen.”

       They were the only vows she knew. He gave her a little smile and leaned down to kiss her. His fangs were out. She could feel them behind his lips.

       “Give me your wrist,” he said softly.

       She obligingly raised her free hand to his mouth. He kissed the pulsing vein there, then raised his left hand to his mouth and bit down. He offered her the bleeding wounds, and, as she closed her lips over the punctures, she felt him bite her wrist and begin to suck.

       They were joined in a circle of blood, each feeding the other, their other hands clasped tightly around the hilt of his sword, and she felt the power of his essence flowing into her as their bond flared and sealed in a great rush. In that endless moment, they joined completely, souls entwining and fusing, until she had no idea who was who and didn’t care. She had never felt so complete, so whole in her entire life, as if she had been only half a person or only half alive before she had bonded to this magnificent creature who was just as broken and empty as she had been.

       They were so close, she didn’t even realize they’d stopped exchanging blood and were kissing until she felt his fang scrape her lip.

       “Eric…”

       Her answer was a tortured moan as the lust between them flared out of control. She broke contact and raced for the stairs. He beat her to them, barring the way with the flat of his sword. His eyes were glowing like two laser beams piercing right through her.

       “After the wedding, we would have run to the hall for the wedding feast. I would have met you there and barred your way with my sword so I could carry you over the threshold myself. It was considered a terrible omen if the bride tripped upon entering her new home,” he told her, then he sheathed his sword, grabbed her and whisked her up the stairs where he all but threw her on the bed.

       She scrambled back onto the mattress, making room for him to join her as they kissed fiercely. Her hands were already at his throat, trying to unhook the brooch so she could push off the cloak. He’d already unfastened the belt and dropped the sword to the floor. The cloak fell away and joined it on the carpet.

       “Then once we were inside, I would have thrust my sword into the rooftree to judge the fortune of our marriage by the depth of the scar,” he said between kisses.

       “I think they’d be unhappy if you put a hole in the roof of this cabin,” she said breathlessly.

       “No doubt you are correct. I will have to forego that tradition.”

       “How about we skip to the tradition of the groom fucking his bride senseless?”

       “I love how you think,” he replied, suckling her breast through the fabric of her dress. She clutched his head and arched, keening his name.

       His hands were sliding under her dress, hitching it up to her waist, and she realized that he was serious about screwing her with her still in it. She gasped and convulsed as he ripped off the thong panties and plunged his fingers into her.

       “Ericericericeric…” she sobbed as he worked her, stretching and thrusting.

       She clawed at his tunic and was rewarded with him yanking it off to reveal his perfect, marble white chest. He left the pants on, though, and she fumbled with the buttons on the leather until they opened and he sprang free. He’d gone commando. The lust she felt was about to burn her alive, and she was just about to scream when he mounted her in one hard, desperate thrust.

       He filled her with such force it slammed the headboard of the bed against the wall, and the roughness of their coupling banged it rhythmically in time with his pumping. She was incoherent, keening and straining, as he peeled down her dress to free her breasts, his mouth seizing each nipple in alternating turns.

       “Promise me! Promise me you will wear this dress on this night every year. Promise me so I can fuck you in it every time!” he cried.

       “I promise! I promise! Promise me you’ll wear these pants!” she answered, grabbing his butt through the supple leather.

       “Done!” he agreed, then followed it up with a harsh sob.

       No more was said as he drove her insane, riding her, claiming her, making her his own inside and out. When she finally came, screaming, he came with her, his voice a triumphant roar that shook the room. She was still feeling aftershocks five minutes later when she came back to her senses. Eric was collapsed on top of her, his hips still spasmodically thrusting a little as he continued to convulse. He was still inside her, turgid and full. She grunted softly with each movement. She was going to need a dozen mineral baths to soak away the soreness from this one.

       “Give it a few moments. My blood will heal you,” he whispered tenderly, his lips against her ear when he’d heard her moan.

       She answered him with a little mew and gave him a nudge so he would support his own weight. He lifted up onto his arms and looked at her, smiling. She looked at him, then down at herself and frowned. She looked positively debauched. Her dress had been pushed up past her hips and pulled down to just below her breasts. She was still wearing her thigh high hose and one of her shoes. Her skin was flushed and peppered with hickeys left from her vampire’s lips, and her spread legs were still wrapped around her lover’s hips, his hardness still inside her.

       She could see where they were joined, and it was an erotic and satisfying sight. He seemed to think so, too, because he began moving again, slow, lazy strokes that she focused on as she watched him sliding in and out of her. His thick, golden curls meshed with hers on each instroke. He was very well padded down there, probably because Vikings needed it for extra warmth. He really was blond all the way down.

       It was fascinating to see what he was doing and correlate it with what her body was feeling as he moved. Each time his pelvis pressed against hers, they both gasped and grunted, then Eric bent down again to suckle her breasts, paying them homage as he rode her with agonizing slowness. She gave a little “guk” sound and arched her back, and he lifted up again so she could watch what they were doing. He gave her a sly smile.

       “Like that do you? You’re as much of a voyeur as I am,” he teased, letting his line of sight follow hers as he quickened his pace.

       She couldn’t answer because she was seeing stars again. Her head fell back, her chest heaving, but he brought her back to the present with a quick, hard thrust that hit her special spot dead on.

       “Look at me, lover,” he commanded and she obeyed.

       Her hands came up to grip his forearms as she arched her pelvis up to drive him deeper. His pleasure and satisfaction surged through the bond; his lips curled into a sensual grin.

       “You may watch me, or you may watch what I am doing to you,” he instructed. “Either way, don’t close your eyes. I want to see the lust in them as I fuck you.”

       “Eric…”

       “Sookie.”

       He was going for it. The headboard was banging against the wall again, and she was crying, gripping his arms so hard she would have cut off his circulation if he’d had any. Her thighs were clamped around his hips, keeping him at just the right angle to drive her over the edge, as she moved with him in time with his thrusts. She felt them both building, knew it was coming as the wave crested and the power released, spreading the pleasure throughout their bodies in a golden rush. Eric shouted something that was unintelligible as she gasped his name, shaking as she climaxed.

       He finally disengaged when they stopped trembling. She felt him pulling out and winced. He grunted a little, then scooted down and began licking her where she was sore. She could feel his tongue laving the raw spots where he’d been a little too rough, and she began sobbing as she felt herself building for yet  _another_  climax.

       “Eric… Eric…”

       “Shhh. Let me take care of you,” he murmured, spreading her with his thumbs so his tongue could get even deeper.

       She tangled her hands in his thick hair, knowing without having to see that he’d bit his tongue and was now bathing her sore places with his healing blood, just like Bill had done after their first time and she was sore from the deflowering. Only Bill had used his fingers. Her first lover hadn’t been nearly as orally fixated as her Viking.

       He brought her off, then crawled up her body, kissing and stroking her face as he crooned a soothing tune. She could taste herself on his lips as she rolled towards him, cleaving to him as they both wept and licked each other’s tears away.

       “I love you,” he whispered between tender kisses.

       “Thank you.”

       They lay there, tangled in each other, for several minutes. The rush was coming down, but she could still feel his blood dancing in her arteries. It reminded her of the carbonated candy that children placed on their tongues and then giggled as it fizzed and hopped in their mouths. Eric’s blood was Pop Rocks in her veins. She laughed softly to herself.

       “What’s so funny?” he asked fondly.

       She shook her head, realizing that she was nearly delirious with euphoria. She wondered if Eric was feeling the same way, then realized that half of why she was so high was because he was just as ecstatic as she was.

       “Your blood is Pop Rocks,” she said stupidly, giggling,

       “My blood is what?” he questioned, chuckling.

       “It’s this candy. It’s carbonated like soda pop. When you put it on your tongue it fizzes and hops around in your mouth.”

       “My blood is fizzing and hopping inside you?” He was definitely amused.

       “It feels that way. Like little fireworks.”

       “I think I know what you mean. It’s like it’s sparkling in my veins,” he admitted. “Like…”

       “Sunlight on snow,” she finished.

       “Yes. That’s it exactly. Was it sunny today?”

       “Yes.”

       “Was it beautiful?”

       “Very much so.”

       “Ahh. I never missed sunlight until I met you.”

       The conversation was oddly familiar and she frowned. He felt her emotional shift immediately.

       “What is it?”

       “I think… I think we’ve had this conversation before.”

       “Hmm? Huh. It seems… familiar to me too.”

       “Do vampires experience Déjà vu?”

       “I… I have no idea.” He seemed just as surprised as she was.

       “Hmm. Doesn’t matter.”

       “No,” he agreed, stroking her arm gently. “All that matters is this.”

       “Yes.”

       He moved, sitting up, and began peeling off her hose, his hands sliding along her calves lovingly.

       “You look utterly ravished,” he commented with his typical smugness.

       “Your fault. You pillaged me, you big Viking.”

       He laughed and lowered his mouth again. She only let him get in a few licks before she stopped him.

       “Please. I need to rest a little.”

       He sighed but obeyed, removing the hose from the other leg. It joined its mate on the floor, then she watched as he pushed the leather pants over his hips and kicked them off.

       “I do love those pants,” she admitted.

       “I’ll wear them for you whenever you like,” he promised.

       “I don’t know if I’d ever let you out of the bedroom with them on. And I definitely don’t want anyone else seeing you in them.”

       He chuckled and began working the dress over her head.

       “I feel the same way about this dress. You are too magnificent for anyone else’s eyes when you are in it.”

       He obligingly shook it out, turned it right-side out and put it on its hanger. She gave him an approving smile as he came back to bed.

       “Thanks.”

       “I don’t want anything to happen to it,” he replied, stretching out alongside her and opening his arms in invitation. She snuggled up with a happy sigh as he draped the eiderdown over their naked bodies and glanced at the clock, frowning when she realized that less than an hour had passed since he had told her it was okay to come down. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

       “I’m glad you extended our stay. It’s good that we don’t have to leave tonight,” she said, nuzzling his chest. Her soreness was much better. Her vampire was very good.

       He chuckled, his hand stroking her back lightly. “I am glad you agree with me. You do know that you’re not getting out of this bed until dawn. If you get hungry, I’m ordering in again and feeding you.”

       She lifted up and glared down at him. “Oh no you’re not! I had to strip the bed and soak the sheets in cold water after the mess we made last night.”

       His eyes opened wide and then he laughed. “Mess  ** _we_**  made? My lover,  ** _you’re_**  the one who insisted on turning my body into your dessert.”

       “I didn’t hear you complaining,” she groused.

       “Why should I? Feeling your hot, sweet tongue on my skin was incredible. When you sucked me, I thought my head was going to explode… the one on my shoulders that is. It was one of the most erotic, pleasurable experiences I’ve ever had. I’d have ruined dozens of sets of sheets to have you do that to me again.”

       She snorted. “You do know that everyone on this island knows what we’ve been up to.”

       “Does that bother you?”

       She sighed and settled down again, hugging him. “Not as much as it should.”

       He gave a satisfied little noise and drew her close. “Good. Our pleasure in each other should never be something that shames you. I am proud of how well you know my body and how much you can make me scream. It speaks of how good we are together if we can bring each other such ecstasy.”

       The admission of how she could make him scream made her tingle all the way down to her toes. She reached up and tugged one of his braids playfully.

       “I like the hair by the way,” she said.

       He turned his head and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad. I’ll wear it this way all the time, if you like.”

       “Only of you want to.”

       “It’s no hardship to braid my hair. Perhaps you can even braid it for me.”

       “I’m not big on the fancy hair stuff. You might not like how they come out.”

       He smiled. “I’ll take my chances.”

       She shrugged and shifted into a more comfortable position tucked against him. He reached over and fingered the necklace he’d given her. She lifted it up and looked at it, examining the two figures carved in the gold.

       “Who are these people again?”

       “Freyr and Gerda,” he answered. “Freyr was a god. One of the Vanir, the first gods, and he lived with the Aesir along with his sister, Freyja. One day when Odin was away, Freyr sat upon Odin’s throne, and he could see all of the nine worlds from there. And he looked into the land of the giants, and he saw Gerda, and he fell in love. Gerda was a frost giantess, the daughter of Gymir, but love between the Aesir and the giants was forbidden. Freyr fell into a deep sadness, but he would not tell anyone why he was so depressed. Finally, his servant Skirnir was able to find out why his master was so sad.”

       “I read about this,” she interrupted.

       “You did?” He was unable to hide the pleasure in his voice.

       “Yeah. When I was looking up Hlin. Freyr gave his servant a magic horse and a sword, and sent him to bring Gerda back with him.”

       “That he did. And he and Gerda were wed, and they were very happy together.”

       “But then later, because he’d given his sword away, Freyr had no sword when Rag.. Ragn…”

       “Ragnarok,” he supplied amicably.

       “Yeah, that. The doom of the gods. He had no sword to fight with when the giants attacked, and Freyr was killed.”

       “Yes.”

       “Kinda sad,” she commented, letting the pendant rest against her skin again.

       “But the gods knew they would die. They knew the prophecy. Ragnarok would come, some of them would die, and the world would be reborn.”

       “But none of that ever happened, did it?”

       “I don’t know. Maybe it did. Maybe it didn’t. I know it never happened in my lifetime, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t happen or that it didn’t. If Helen can exist, then what’s to say that Odin and Thorr and Freyja can’t as well? In every myth lies a grain of truth.”

       “Like the myths about vampires and fairies,” she said fondly, resting her chin on his chest so she could smile at him. He smiled back.

       “I am the stuff of legends,” he said in a conspiratorial whisper, showing a little fang.

       She giggled and let her hand drift southward even though she wasn’t really looking for another round. “I’ll say.”

       He grinned and laughed, sweeping back a lock of her hair with his fingertip. “I love you.”

       “I love you too, even though it scares me sometimes,” she admitted.

       “You don’t ever have to be afraid. I’m with you.”

       “I know.”

       “I’ll protect you from all dangers. You will want for nothing,” he vowed, then grinned as his eyes lit up with glee. “Which reminds me…”

       “Uh-oh,” she said, not liking the look in his eyes at all.

       “Now that we have been put to bed and consummated our bond…”

       “Put to bed?” she repeated incredulously.

       “Well, yes. After the wedding feast, you would have been taken to our marriage bed and prepared by your women attendants, and I would have been guided to you by torchlight. Then we would have been put into bed together, and our union witnessed by six people who could identify us later and attest to the legitimacy of our marriage.”

       She blinked. “ ** _Six_**  people would have watched us have sex?” she squeaked.

       “Well… not the actual act. They would just have had to see us together in the marriage bed. It was very rare for anyone to stay for the… uhh… consummation. Although if it was a very important alliance wedding, witnesses might have remained, but for us...” He stroked her cheek. “I would not have allowed it.”

       “That’s good to know.”

       He laughed. “But afterwards… once our union was sealed, then it would be time for me to give you your  _morgen-gifu_.”

       “My morgen-what?”

       “ _Morgen-gifu._  Morning gift. The gift I would have held in trust for you for after we were joined. It would have consisted of clothes and jewelry and things for our new home, cattle and land and houses…”

       “Land and houses?”

       “King Gormr gave Þyri the entire land of Denmark. If I were King I would give you all of Louisiana.”

       “You don’t want to be King, and I certainly would not want Louisiana.”

       “True. It  ** _is_**  a hopeless backwater,” he admitted with a sigh.

       “Hey. Watch it. It might be a hopeless backwater, but it’s  ** _my_**  hopeless backwater.”

       “Forgive me if I have insulted you.”

       She snorted and rested her cheek on his chest again, feeling happy and at peace. Eric sharing and joking with her was a wonderful thing.

       “So what did you have planned for my morgen-whatever?” she asked casually, running her finger through his chest hair.

       “ _Morgen-gifu_ ,” he corrected. “And I was thinking that I’d start with a new car.”

       She sat up straight and glared down at him. “A new car?”

       “Your car is crappy and you know it.”

       “There’s nothing wrong with my car,” she insisted, offended.

       “It’s a Malibu. That’s bad enough.”

       “It’s the nicest car I’ve ever owned. Tara gave it to me after mine got burned when Charles, the bartender  ** _you_**  sent home with me, set my house on fire.”

       “I know full well how you got that car, and I was mightily unhappy about her giving it to you. I wanted to get you a new car then, but she beat me to it, and I knew you’d never accept a vehicle from me once she’d gifted you with that piece of crap,” he complained with a look of distaste on his face.

       She was just about to get herself worked up into a good froth when she felt his anger and disappointment and hurt through the bond and that calmed her down a little. Like Niall always wanting to have something to give to her, Eric was much the same way. He wanted to “prove” his love. Didn’t he realize that he didn’t have to prove anything?

       “Okay, look. I’ll make you a deal,” she began and he gave her a raised eyebrow.

       “Are you negotiating, my darling?” he asked with a grin.

       “Yes, I’m negotiating. You already are giving me a new bathroom…”

       “I won that right in a fair bet,” he reminded.

       She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay. But that still doesn’t change the fact that it’s gonna cost a small fortune.”

       He waved a dismissive hand as if to say “So?”

       “So how about this… you give up on the new car thing and I’ll… I’ll…”

       “Yes? And you’ll?” he prompted when she got caught up on trying to decide what she should offer in lieu of the car. “C’mon, darling, make me an offer I can’t refuse.”

       “I’ll… let you put in the big tub,” she conceded.

       His eyes lit up. “You’ll let me knock out the wall and expand the bathroom to put in the big Kohler?”

       She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

       He grinned. “Done!” He reached up to cup her face, looking very pleased with her. “Oh brilliantly played, my lover. I was going to get you a sports car, but it would have been exceedingly difficult for me to fuck you in it. You’ve made me a much better offer. I’m so proud of you.”

       “That’s it.”

       She grabbed a pillow and covered his face with it, pressing down. He allowed it, lying still with his hands folded over his chest. After about four minutes, he started tapping his fingers.

       “Exactly how long am I supposed to let you do this?” he asked finally, although since it was a jumbled mumble she had to guess that was what he’d said.

       “Until I feel better,” she answered.

       He huffed, then she watched as he slid one hand down to her crotch. Since she had both hands on the pillow, she had no way of stopping him as he slipped two fingers into her and started rubbing her nub with his thumb.

       “No fair,” she complained, squirming.

       He kept at it until she had no choice but to release the pillow as she gasped and arched into his hand.

       “I take it you’re feeling better?” he asked smugly.

       “Shut up…”

       “Of course. I can think of much better things to do with my mouth.”

       “Nnnnghh.”

       He chuckled, then pulled his fingers out, taking her by the hips and lifting her up easily to straddle his face. Soon his tongue was working it’s magic. God he loved oral sex. How’d she get so lucky?

       He held her in place by cupping her butt and keeping her steady so she had no choice but to lean over and grip the headboard for support. He reached one hand up to fondle her dangling breasts.

       “Eric!” It was a plea and a warning at the same time.

       He grunted then maneuvered her down his body to sit her down onto his hardness, thrusting up into her.

       It was unhurried and tender. Eric wasn’t in any rush to finish and neither was she, so letting him move her up and down on him was no problem as she relaxed and let him take care of everything. He finally moved them so he was in a sitting position, his arms cupped under her ass as her arms and legs wrapped around him. She dropped her head to his neck and she felt his lips against her throat, but he didn’t bite. He had to give him credit for his control. He took his mouthfuls from her breast in the last few moments before both of them climaxed.

       Afterwards, he placed her beside him, curling around her as he stroked her and whispered compliments into her ear. She drifted in peaceful bliss, sinking down into the bond and his love, and she felt it open fully, surrounding her with his presence until she was privy to his thoughts.

       He was thinking of how much he adored her. How happy she made him and how frightened he was that Felipe would try to use them against each other, or try to make them do things by threatening the other. He hated the new king, resented him terribly, but yet he had no desire to seize power. He’d had plenty of opportunity to take over after Sophie-Anne had been so badly injured in Rhodes, but he hadn’t. He had all the territory he wanted. He just wanted to govern what he had, run his bar and his businesses, and be left in peace to love his bonded. Any more power would have made him an even bigger target than he already was, and the fact that she was a fragile human was of deep concern to him. For all his assurances that he would protect her, his greatest fear was that he would fail. Apparently something like that had happened before…

       He started to remember something old and ugly and horribly painful, but she felt him clamp it down and seal it off.

        _‘Past is past. Learn and don’t make the same mistakes…’_  she heard.  _‘Love the woman. Love her and pray it’s enough.’_

       She stayed very still, not letting on that she could hear him. Izzy had warned her that they would start to be able to hear each other, but that it was something that they should not advertise. Reading into Eric’s fears, she could understand why. She tried to calm his unsettled mood by projecting her own joy and happiness into the bond, and she felt it work as he sighed and his mood lightened.

       “I love you,” she murmured, knowing those were three words he delighted to hear.

       He fingered the gold amulet, touching it with reverence. It was her wedding ring, the physical symbol of her bond with Eric. She ought to get him something.

       “I love you too.”

       She sighed and snuggled close. Hearing Eric tell her he loved her was a wonderful thing indeed.

       Her stomach growled and he snickered.

       “Shall I call for food?”

       “Sure,” she agreed, not wanting to move. “No chocolate or raspberry sauces though.”

       “You don’t want to eat me?” He sounded disappointed.

       “I can eat you plenty without the mess.”

       “I’ll hold you to that.”

       She snorted, then whined when he pushed her away.

       “No…”

       “I’m just going to go downstairs and call for a meal. I’ll be back in twenty minutes,” he assured her, tucking the eiderdown around her and kissing her temple.

       “Promise?”

       “Promise.”

       “Okay then.”

       She felt him leave the loft and she realized that she could track him easily through the bond without having to even think about it. It was like she had a little GPS unit in her brain and the blip on the screen was Eric, and she could watch the blip as it moved about the cabin, going to the intercom… Oh, she could hear him. He was buzzing the concierge to get the kitchen.

       “Eric…” she said, not raising her voice. He paused and waited. She could feel his alertness.

       “Get me more of those nummy appetizers that you got last night. And get yourself one of those fairy blood pods.”

       Surprise then lust and anticipation.

       “Really?” he asked.

       It was amazing. She could hear him all the way down the stairs and across the living room. She wondered how heightened her senses were now.

       “Yeah, I wanna experience what you’re like on fairy blood. We didn’t get a chance Sunday night.”

       The thoughts coming across were positively obscene and she was shocked. She didn’t think some of the things he was thinking were even physically possible, but she licked her lips and pretended she couldn’t hear his wild imaginings.

       “As you wish, my lover. I hope you can take me.”

       “If I can’t, I trust you’ll know that before I do.”

       “Yes.”

       She heard him give the order then terminate the connection.

       “Twenty minutes, my lover,” he said.

       “Yeah.”

       “Are you having any difficulty hearing me?”

       “No.”

       His blip moved to the far side of the dining room. “Can you hear me now?”

       “Yeah.”

       He moved into the windowless room and closed the door. “How about now?”

       “What is this? A cell phone commercial?”

       He laughed. “Just testing how far your range is. I must admit I wasn’t expecting your hearing to be so sharp.” He sounded as if he would burst with pride, and she could feel his happiness in the bond. If she was strong and could hear and see… He was so pleased.

       “Uh-huh. You go out in the snow and I’m not letting you back in bed.”

       “Is that a challenge?”

       “It’s a promise. Or better yet, I’ll call Izzy and have her take pictures of you buck naked in a snowbank and put them up on the Internet.”

       “Free advertising for Fangtasia!”

       She groaned, but he just laughed and laughed. “I love you,” he finally said.

       “Love you too.”

       She watched his blip zip from the back of the windowless room all the way up the stairs until he was leaning over her. She was a little dizzy from it actually.

       “Are you okay, my lover?” he asked, nuzzling her with his nose while her head spun.

       “Yeah. Just a little dizzy. I was tracking you and you moved so fast.”

       “Ah. Our bond is strong.”

       “Yeah. Izzy was right.”

       “I was hoping she’d be wrong,” he confided, his worry and concern coming across the connection. The blip that was him in her head began to change colors. It went from blue-green to swirling yellow and bright scarlet red mixed with streaks of black.

       “Why?”

       “Felipe will use it against us.” Yellow flared to brighter red as his protective instincts rose. There was more black.

       “We won’t let him.” She sent her own conviction through the bond. Red settled and the blue began to come back.

       “Please understand, there may come a time when, in order to protect you, I may have to seize power or abdicate it.”

       “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” she assured him.

       Blue was back now, turning to purple as he slid into bed with her.

       “Don’t you dare touch me with your cold feet,” she warned.

       “You are a hard-hearted woman,” he accused, snuggling up along her back.

       “And don’t you ever forget it,” she sniffed.

       Purple danced and flared with little sparks of white as he snickered.

       “When’s food?”

       “Fifteen minutes.”

       “Okay.”

       Purple warred with indigo in swirls. She felt his hardness pressed against her backside as one hand slid around to lie against her lower abdomen.

       “Enough time for a quickie?” he asked hopefully.

       “Uhh. No.”

       He chuckled, but bumped against her a few times until she gave him a little kick. The white sparkles were back and she began to associate them with amusement. So she could see his emotions as well as feel them. That meant purple and indigo were arousal. Blue-green must be happiness and contentment. Anger was obviously the scarlet and black. Interesting little tidbit for her to squirrel away for later examination.

       “You are cruel,” he said, but she knew he wasn’t at all upset.

       “Yep.”

       He snickered again, his lips pressed to her shoulder. Purple faded to blue-green and she felt him relax. Cuddling was so nice with him and she told him so.

       “Want to know what I remembered first when I got my memory back?” he asked.

       “What?”

       “I remembered being terrified that first night, and you let me snuggle with you. You held my hand.”

       “Ah.” She remembered that night all too well. Eric, so scared and lost, in such need of comfort and reassurance. It had been so nice to be needed.

       “That was the night I swore to myself that I’d make you mine no matter what.”

       “Was I worth the wait?”

       A new color filled the blip, a deep crimson that was edged with purple, it swirled as the blip expanded, and she could feel his affection and joy flooding into the bond.

       “Oh yes.”

       She sighed and pushed back into his arms, letting him hold her until the food arrived, watching in her mind’s eye as the blip pulsed and settled in its colors. Whaddya know. Crimson was the color of love.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

  
_Chapter Fifteen_

       She must have dozed off because the next thing she remembered, Eric was leaning over her and nuzzling her with his nose.

       "What is it, baby?" she asked sleepily.

       He chuckled. "Baby? What's next? Honeypie? Schnookums?"

       "Bullshitting jerk."

       "I think I like Baby better."

       "Hmmph. Please tell me you come bearing food," she said, rolling over and sitting up. She was starving. All she'd had to eat since that morning had been a turkey sandwich, and she'd worked that off hours ago.

       "Dinner is served," her Viking confirmed, and she followed the sweep of his hand to the tray full of delicious treats.

       She moaned and reached for the lid on one of the plates, lifting it so she could snatch a crab puff. She didn't even realize she'd out-snatched Eric until she heard him chuckle.

       "What?" she questioned, moving to snag another, but this time he was faster.

       "Ah-ah. Rules are I feed you, my lover," he reminded.

       "Well, then get with the feeding because this girl is hungry."

       He smiled and offered her the morsel. She ate four crab puffs and a stuffed mushroom in quick succession.

       "Mmmph. Why am I so hungry?" she wondered, accepting a glass of wine from him. At least he let her drink by herself.

       "Sex and my blood," he answered.

       "I don't remember being this starving the last time I took your blood," she commented.

       He'd ordered shrimp cocktail, and she pointed towards them. He obligingly dipped them in cocktail sauce before dangling them out for her to bite off the tails. He seemed to derive great pleasure from hearing the snap of her teeth.

       "Your mental state may have had something to do with that. You were... very unhappy," he explained. She felt a stab of pain through the bond and licked his fingers to distract him. It worked and arousal replaced his discomfort.

       She took another sip of her wine. "I think I took more this time too, and you've been feeding from me. Maybe I should have gotten a steak..."

       "That is easily rectified. All I would need to do is buzz the concierge, and any cut of meat you so desired would be delivered to our door."

       She knew there was an erotic joke somewhere in that statement, but she didn't look for it. Instead she drank again, letting the wine make its way down her throat in a slow burn, and took a deep breath.

       "Maybe later. If I'm still hungry."

       "The kitchen is open all night."

       "That's good to know."

       She pushed aside the eiderdown and moved to get out of bed, but Eric moved quick as a whip and grabbed her wrist.

       "Where do you think you're going?"

       "I'm getting up," she replied.

       "I told you that you weren't leaving this bed until dawn."

       "Well, I need a potty break," she informed him, leveling him with a look.

       He digested what she said and nodded that he understood, releasing her wrist. "Don't take too long. Your food will get cold."

       She reached for her robe, but he snatched it away. "Ah-ah. No one here but us, and I don't want you covering that perfect body of yours."

       "Hmm, bossy much?"

       "You knew that before you bonded with me."

       She huffed and stood up, feeling the cooler ambient air on her bare skin. "Aww, c'mon Eric, I'm cold."

       "All the better for you to hurry back, my lover. The bed is warm even if I am not." He gave her an obscene leer that made her shiver.

       "You're being cruel."

       "Deal with it. Now go do your... potty thing," he said, crinkling his nose in distaste and waving a hand towards the bathroom.

       She gave a suffering sigh and headed for the toilet. Walking was an effort. She was definitely feeling it this time. Her joints felt loose and her private areas felt tender and swollen. She was starting to rethink the fairy blood thing. Maybe Eric was right, and she wasn't up to taking him when he was high on fae blood, at least not tonight. They had pretty much been having sex non-stop since they got there, with a few hours off for eating and fighting. But still, regardless of the emotional roller coaster they'd been on since Sunday, she'd had more sex in four days than she'd had in the previous year, and her body just wasn't used to it.

       The tiles under her feet were cold so she hurried to do her business and get back to the carpeted floor. When she returned, Eric was lying on the bed, propped up against the headboard with his arms crossed behind his head and his legs stretched out on the mattress. He was looking far too smug and satisfied with himself for her liking, and she wondered if he'd dipped into the fairy blood podjuice. She watched him carefully, then leaped almost out of pure instinct when he tossed a shrimp at her. She'd nabbed it before she had a chance to think about it, and it happened so fast that she shocked herself.

       "Oh..." she gasped, staring at the little, pink shrimp in her hand.

       She cast a frightened glance to Eric, but he just grinned. He was very, very pleased with her reflexes.

 _'She's going to make a magnificent vampire one day,'_  she heard him think, and she had to fight to keep her revulsion under control so she wouldn't give her secret away.

       He felt her unhappiness, of course, and frowned.

       "You've nothing to be worried about, my lover. You know that you're always faster and stronger after having my blood," he soothed.

       "I know. I just scare myself sometimes," she hedged.

       "You have nothing to be scared of. You are incredible," he praised, extending his hand. "Come. There is more food here, and I know you are still hungry."

       Not surprisingly, his stray thought had killed her appetite (and her libido,) but she knew she had to eat otherwise he'd get suspicious. She returned to the bed and sat next to him, pressed against his side as he wrapped one arm around her. She noticed the little steamer that held the blood pods sitting alongside a plate of potato bites, but Eric ignored it as he offered her another bit of food.

       "Eat, my lover. We must keep up your strength."

       She accepted the salmon and cream cheese ball and let it melt on her tongue. It was as good as it had been the night she'd turned him into her dessert, and the memory of eating him helped banish her nervousness. He gave her a spinach and bacon puff pastry, and she swallowed it with an appreciative moan.

       "I love the little sounds you make. Hearing you, watching your face... it makes me wish I could eat too, just so I could see what all the fuss is about," he admitted, his eyes focused on her lips. He darted forward to lick a bit of spinach off her lower lip, but made a face and quickly wiped his mouth on a napkin.

       "Sorry," she said, although she had no idea why she was apologizing to him.

       He gave her a wry smile and bent his head to her breast, suckling the nipple as he bit her and drew blood. She froze and dropped her jaw as the pleasure made warmth start to build in her lower abdomen despite her soreness. A moment later, he laved the wounds with his tongue and pulled away.

       "There, no more nasty taste in my mouth. Just your sweet flavor on my tongue," he crooned.

       "Ah. Didn't you order blood for yourself?"

       He lifted the lid off the steamer revealing three of the funky avocadoes, two the O-neg and one the much smaller, pink-veined fairy blood pod. "Yes, but I am... reconsidering."

       "Reconsidering?"

       "We have been... very active these past few nights, and I am concerned for your well-being. I know enough about you to know that you are not accustomed to being so... well used."

       "You're saying you're worried we're having too much sex? Who are you and what have you done with Eric?"

       Not that she would object to a break. She was sore, but she also knew he could take care of that with a few licks of his tongue. She had expected him to heal her that way again before they continued with more sex for the night. All she would have had to do was tell him it hurt, and he would have been seeing to her pain before she could say "Ow." Actually, considering how close they now were, he'd probably already felt the "Ow," and was trying to avoid further "Ow" by being considerate. Did he love her or what?

       "It isn't that, my darling. It's..." He sighed and looked thoughtful. "What is the saying about a horse and its teeth?"

       "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth?"

       He smiled proudly. "That's the one."

       She frowned. "I'm a gift horse to you?"

       "Of course not. What I'm trying to say is..."

       He paused, his expression frustrated, and she could feel his turmoil in the bond. Finally, he gripped her by the hips and sat her on him, straddling her over his crotch. She could feel his erection pressing into the crack of her ass, but she got the impression that he was trying to make a point and not trying to get her to mount him.

       "My darling, you have nothing to prove. I am ready all the time. Whenever you want me, you can have me. I'll want you too. Anytime. Anywhere. This will never be a problem, but..." He stroked her arms tenderly. "But you said yourself you want our relationship to be more than sex. I want that too. If I drink that fairy blood, even though it is not real fairy blood, the effect will be the same, and I will become a horny berserker who will want to fuck you eight times before dawn."

       He stopped and nuzzled her breast, but his action was loving not arousing.

       "You'll want to bite me and fuck me and rub yourself all over me," she said aloud, remembering what he'd said to her after she'd had her meal with Niall.

       He kissed the hollow of her throat. "Exactly. There is nothing inherently  _wrong_  with that. It is unlikely that I would lose control badly enough to break your bones, but I would probably ride you until you bled, and I doubt that would be very pleasant for you. In my intoxicated state, I might not even realize that I was hurting you until it was too late, and I've already had to heal up a few sore spots on you. I want you to feel well loved, not abused."

       "I can assure you that I don't feel abused." But she did have to admit that he'd already done the riding her raw bit, and that hadn't felt too good once the afterglow had worn off.

       He chuckled and palmed both her breasts. Since she was sitting on top of him, she was raised a little higher than his nose so it was easy for him to dip his cheek down to rub against her nipples. Again the action, while erotic, wasn't meant to initiate sex. No. His touch was reverent and gentle.

       "My darling, as much as endless sexcapades with you appeals to me, we have many, many nights of glorious sex ahead of us, and I would rather make love to you twice before dawn, knowing that I'd pleased you and made you want me even more, than rut all over you eight times and leave you raw and bloody."

       He looked up at her from the valley between her breasts and gave her wide, puppy dog eyes.

       "I want quality, not quantity. And I want to cuddle and talk." He laughed. "I sound like a girl, don't I?"

       She snickered and wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back, kissing her and nibbling her throat.

       "I'm an idiot for not drinking that blood. Who knows when I'll get the chance to have it again, but I don't want to take the chance of hurting you, my lover."

       His sincerity, and willingness to give up something that he so obviously would have enjoyed, brought her to tears, and she wondered what she had done to deserve this man who valued her so highly and loved her so much.

       "Will it keep?" she asked, stroking his hair.

       "It will spoil in 48 hours."

       "Then we'll bring it with us. Use it tomorrow or the night after..."

       "I doubt we'll get the chance. Friday and Saturday nights are both busy for us, and, believe me, it  _would_  be an all night affair."

       "We could still try. Maybe we'll get lucky."

       "I'm already lucky," he whispered, kissing her and licking her tears away.

       She sniffled and scooted down on him, tucking her head under his chin. He embraced her, crooning the wordless hum that made his chest vibrate, and she pressed her cheek to his broad pects, letting the sound reverberate inside her head.

       "Thank you. I am sore," she admitted.

       He stroked her back and she felt his hand moving lower, questing between her legs and touching the tender spots gently. She tried not to wince, but he knew when he'd found a sore spot. She didn't have to look to know that he'd bitten his fingers, and was now rubbing his blood on her raw places to heal them. She would rather have had his tongue, but then she would have had to move from where she was curled on his chest, and she was feeling too safe and cherished to move.

       After a few moments, he patted her bottom to get her attention, and she lifted her head to look at him. He kissed her and gave her such a tender and loving look that she almost started to cry again, but he shushed her.

       "Would you like me to show you a way to please me, lover? A way to make me come, screaming your name?" he asked, his voice sultry.

       "Don't I already do that?" she teased.

       "Oh yes. I scream all manner of things when I am coming inside you. But I am talking about a new way to make me scream. Would you like to learn? It would show you how much I trust you."

       She stroked his chest, smiling when he shuddered and grew hard again. She wasn't sore anymore so she knew she could take him, but his offer intrigued her.

       "You said I was a quick study..." she replied, arching her spine and displaying her breasts a little.

       He made a little grunting noise at the back of his throat, more like a huff than a growl, but she got the message. He looked down at the food tray and began sifting through the offerings, obviously looking for something specific. For the first time she noticed a second steamer next to his black one, but it was the normal bamboo color.

       "What's in the steamer?"

       He obligingly lifted the lid to reveal six small steamed dumplings.

       "Ooo."

       He grinned and picked up the steamer, holding it in both hands so she could pluck the still warm dumplings from the water. She snapped them up in record time. She might be horny, but she sure was still hungry too, and good dumplings should never be allowed to go cold.

       "Mmm. Yum," she hummed, licking her fingers.

       He watched her, his nostrils flaring and his eyes flooding with want. She'd lost track of his blip in her head, but now she saw it again and it was pure purple. He put the steamer back, took her hand and licked her fingers, sucking them into his mouth and scraping his teeth along her knuckles. She moaned. He moaned too, released her hand, and resumed perusing the tray with a sense of urgency.

       "What are you looking for?" she asked.

       "Something greasy or slippery."

       "What for?"

       "We need something... slick. We could do without it, but it's easier if we have a lubricant."

       "Lubricant? Like oil or lotion?"

       "Yes."

       She slid off him, ignoring his moan of protest, and reached over to pick up the jar of body crème Surima had made for her.

       "Will this do?" she asked, offering him the jar.

       He gave her a curious glance, then unscrewed the lid and took a deep sniff. He closed his eyes in pleasure and dipped a finger into the crème to test it, rubbing a bit of it between his thumb and forefinger.

       "Yes, this will do nicely," he replied, already rumbling.

       The sound did things to her libido and she licked her lips.

       "Are you ready for your lesson?"

       "Does it feel like I'm ready?" she teased.

       He smiled slowly. "If you keep feeling like that, I may skip the lesson and make love to you instead."

       She shook her head. "No. I want to learn how to make you scream. We can make love after you're done screaming."

       "I think that can be arranged."

       "That's if you're up to it. I might wear you out, y'know."

       He snickered, his eyes dancing with happiness. "That is not possible. I will always want you. You could probably arouse me in the middle of the day, and I'd get hard for you. I don't know how much of an... active participant I'd be, but you might have fun."

       "An undead Viking as a dildo? I think I'll pass," she snorted.

       He laughed out loud and kissed her, letting their tongues duel, then he scraped his fang along her neck and nipped her at the base of her throat.

       "Give me your hand," he ordered gently.

       She obeyed and offered him her right hand. He dipped her middle and index fingers into the crème and coated them up to her palm. Then he locked eyes with her and held her gaze as he slid down to lie on the bed and lifted his knees. He urged her to put herself between his spread legs and guided her hand down low, under his testicles to the opening that was there. Her eyes flew open wide when she realized what he was doing and she almost balked.

       "Shhh, my lover. I have only willingly allowed three other people to do this to me in my long life. I am showing you a great trust," he soothed, positioning her greased fingers right at his entrance.

       "Look at me," he said, and she obeyed as he slowly pushed her fingers into him.

       The ring of muscle resisted at first, then it gave under Eric's insistence. He even used his own finger to breach himself and open the sphincter wide enough to slide her fingers in. It was tight. Really, really tight. Eric groaned and took her wrist, urging her to push her fingers deeper. She gritted her teeth and tried to forget where she was sticking her hand, and, when that didn't work, tried to remind herself that vampires didn't crap so it wasn't like anything was up there.

       "Curl your fingers. You'll feel a lump deep inside," he instructed. His voice was breathless.

       He was seriously grossing her out, but she shoved her fingers as deep as they would go and pushed up against the wall of muscle. She knew immediately when she hit jackpot because he jerked and let out a barking cry. Well, okay, if it made him do that, maybe it wasn't so bad. She pulled back a little and pushed in again, making sure to give the lump a good rub. He threw his head back and yelled. Oh, yeah. Definitely losing the ick factor now because he was beautiful like that.

       "Eric..."

       "Again. Harder," he begged.

       It was like when he fingered her, rubbing her nub with his thumb, only his nub was way up inside him. Odd, she always thought his most sensitive spot was the tip of his penis – which was very erect and straining. He wasn't circumcised, but that was no surprise. Vikings probably left the turtlenecks on their little Johnsons for the extra warmth, or in Eric's case,  _big_  Johnson. Bill hadn't been cut either. She'd been playing down how much bigger Eric was than Bill, but the difference was considerable. Right now that gracious plenty was standing nearly straight up, and it jumped every time she hit the spot inside.

       Eric was splayed out on the bed, his legs spread, knees up, heels digging into the mattress, his hands gripping the sheets. His hair was a wild sea of gold around his head and across the pillows as he arched his neck and dropped his jaw, his head shaking from side to side as she hit his nub over and over. He tried to bring himself off with his hand, reaching for his erection, but she slapped his fingers and punished him by pulling her fingers half way out. He whined low in his throat, an agonizing sound.

       "No.  ** _I_**  make you come," she insisted.

       "Yes, my lover," he panted.

       Whoa. What a head rush. Did dominatrixes feel this way when their subjects surrendered? She didn't know, but reducing this ancient warrior to a quivering mass of need was an awesome power trip. She rewarded his submission by sliding her fingers back in. He jerked and sobbed, his eyes tightly closed.

       His nipples were hard and begging to be nipped so she rose up on her knees, keeping her one hand where it was, and leaned over him far enough to cover his breast with her tongue. He howled when she bit down, coinciding the bite with another rub to his little joy-spot. She'd drawn blood and she felt him straining to obey her command not to touch himself as she sucked on the little wounds.

       He was making these little sounds, little "Ah ah ah ah ah" sounds that were a companion song to his gasps, and every now and then he'd let out a wail when she'd get his spot in just the right place.

       "Please... please, my lover, please."  _'Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease.'_

       "Are you ready to scream my name?" she asked, pushing her fingers deep.

        **" _Yes!"_** _'Yesyesyesyesyesyesohpleasepleasepleaseplease.'_

       She decided to put him out of his misery, and moved back down his body to take him into her mouth. A bubble of red had already started to leak from the tip, and she licked it away, making him thrust up his hips and yowl. Her newly acquired vampire-blood enhanced reflexes kept him from gagging her, and she put her free hand firmly on his hip to make him stay still. Not any easy prospect because he was writhing.

       She timed her lips and her hand in counter-rhythm, and she knew it wouldn't take long to send him over the edge. His sounds got louder and louder as the muscles around her fingers got tighter, then his little nub swelled and got very hard, just before he convulsed.

        ** _"SOOKIE!"_**  he screamed and came in her mouth.  ** _"SOOKIE!"_**

       He kept shaking, twitching with aftershocks long after he'd finished, and tears rolled down his cheeks, staining the sheets. She knew she ought to be mortified, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She gave his joy-spot a few more rubs then slowly pulled her fingers out. She knew how sensitive her nub could be after she'd climaxed, and she assumed his was the same way.

       She didn't have time to wonder if she was right, however, because he was flipping her over onto her back and diving his mouth between her legs. She wasn't objecting because doing him had made her incredibly aroused, and, if he hadn't offered, she would have asked. But her Viking was as considerate as he'd ever been and was giving her a good seeing to without her having to say a word. She was saying plenty, although none of it went beyond his name and a plea for more, more, more. She climaxed on his tongue, crying his name, and the next thing she knew, she was bundled in his arms and they were both still shaking.

       "Eric," she gasped, then gathered her wits about her to try again. "Eric."

       "Yes, my lover."

       "What was that?"

       "That was you giving me the ride of my life. I haven't come that hard in 800 years."

       "Oh."

       "Thank you. That was incredible."

       "What did I just do? I mean... I know what I did. I just... What did I hit up there? I didn't know guys had G-spots."

       He chuckled. "We don't. I forget that you know very little about sex, my lover. You are so adept and skilled with me that I forget your lovers have been few."

       He rolled so they were facing each other, and he took a moment to smooth her hair and kiss her face before tucking her against him. The bond between them was humming with happiness. His little blip was bright blue-green.

       "What you were bumping against was the back side of my prostate. It's very sensitive, and when it's rubbed in just the right way, it's very pleasurable."

       "Prostate. Guys can get cancer there," she commented.

       He laughed and played with her hair. "Yes. That's true, but we don't have to worry about such things."

       She was still trying to figure out what had just happened, and a few stray thoughts popped into her head. If guys had prostates and it felt really good to have them rubbed, was that why...

       "Is that why gay guys... Why they... Uh..."

       "Fuck each other up the ass?" he provided helpfully.

       God he could be so blunt sometimes, but it let her off the hook. She blushed. "Umm. Yeah."

       "That's part of it," he answered carefully.

       "Do you... ummm..."

       "Do I like getting fucked up the ass? No. Just because I like having my prostate rubbed by the right person does not mean I want cock. Your fingers do quite well. They were perfect, actually."

       "So the three other people..." she prompted.

       "Were all women. Pam was the last person I let do that to me, and that was three hundred years ago."

       "Oh." Well, Pam had said that she and Eric had had lots and lots of sex after he'd turned her.

       "But you were, by far, the best. Better than any of them, my lover. I swear the earth moved. It did," he said with conviction.

       She chuckled and preened. "I think I saw a few stars myself."

       "You certainly were begging me to send you to the moon."

       "I don't think I've made it back yet."

       He gave a deep belly laugh and kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

       "Love you too," she answered, snuggling close. She was on that blissful edge, the one where pleasure and contentment seeped into every pore, and she was utterly and completely at peace. Eric tucked the blankets and eiderdown around them and she was cocooned in warmth.

       "Where's the tray?" she asked suddenly.

       "I put it on the floor."

       "Oh, good. I was worried we'd made another big mess."

       "I did rip up and stain the sheets," he admitted, but he didn't sound sorry.

       "Fine.  ** _You_**  get to call and tell housekeeping we need the bed made  _again_."

       He chuckled. "Of course."

       "Eric?"

       "Yes, my lover?"

       "Where did you... uh... where did you learn about that prostate thing?" she asked, half-afraid of the answer.

       "I'll answer, but you must promise to understand that the world was a very different place than it is now, and things that are no longer acceptable were considered the norm," he warned.

       "Okay. I understand."

       "My father was a chieftain. He was a wealthy and powerful man, and I was his eldest son. I was set to take his place as leader when he died. There was a town in what is now the middle of Sweden. It was called Birka, and it was on the trade route from the Orient. My father would go there to trade and broker alliances for our clan. One trip he won a concubine in a game of  _hnefa-tafl_. Her name was Mai-Pei, and she had been the favored courtesan of a wealthy merchant from Jiayuguan who had fallen on hard luck. She was a tiny thing, very delicate and dainty. Life in the cold north was no life for her, but she was exotic, and my father wanted her, so she came home with him."

       He paused and looked at her, waiting to see if she would have anything to say about his father bringing home a sex slave. She didn't like it, but he had warned her so she tried not to be too shocked.

       "What did your mother think?"

       He shrugged. "No one was expected to be faithful. Men had concubines and female bed slaves all the time. As long as the woman was of lower status, she was of no threat to the wife, and my mother had her own... dalliances when my father was away."

       "Oh." She gulped, biting her lip. "I see..."

       "No. You really don't. Things were very different then for women. Their options were very limited. Becoming a concubine to a wealthy man was considered an acceptable career choice for many women of lower class. If the man was good, a concubine's life was pleasant and secure."

       "Was your father good?"

       He stiffened a little, and she thought she might have offended him because the bond flared and his blip sparked red, but then it settled down again.

       "Yes. By the standards of the times, he was a good man. His people loved him."

       "I'll bet they loved you too," she said fondly, stroking his chest and his ego.

       "I was... looked upon with respect and affection, yes."

       She smiled, trying to imagine Eric the Chieftain. It wasn't too hard.

       "You were telling me about Mai-Pei."

       "Mai-Pei. Yes. Poor Mai-Pei. She hated the Northern Barbarians as she called us. We were monsters of men, so much bigger than the men she was used to servicing, and I do mean  _bigger_  in the endowment sense."

       She snorted. So Vikings were better hung than Chinamen. Why was she not surprised?

       "My father gave her to my brothers and I to use if we wanted. She did her best, but she was afraid of us."

       Oh yes, the big, scary Northmen with their big dicks. If Eric had been her first, she might have been scared too... until she'd discovered how well he used it.

       "But I was a horny bastard, and she was available to me whenever I wanted, and I wanted. I wanted  _a lot_ ," he continued. "Her previous owner had taught her well, and she was very skilled,  ** _very_**  skilled. When she was too sore from my using her to take me again, she would use her pretty mouth and her hands on me, and it was she who first taught me about the pleasure to be had with a properly placed set of fingers."

       "I'll bet that was a surprise the first time she did it," she commented, smiling at him. She frowned when he didn't smile back.

       "It disgusted her. We Northmen were clean, but we were not bathing obsessed like those who lived in warmer climates. She thought me filthy down there, and she hated to do it, but she did not want to suck me, and she couldn't fuck me, so she had no choice."

       He stopped, his brows furrowing in remembered insult.

       "She was the first person to ever make me feel ashamed, but I wanted her to like being with me so I tried to be good for her. I was a boy and she made me a man. As time went on, I learned from her and I tried to please her."

       "If your skill now is any gauge, you learned very well," she praised, hoping to make him feel better.

       He shrugged. "She was a very good teacher. Towards the end, she liked me. She wasn't afraid of me anymore at least."

       "What happened to her?"

       "She died. About three years after my father brought her home, she took ill one winter. We did everything we could, but she was... she was a lily in the snow," he answered with a sad sigh.

       "I'm sorry."

       "Don't be. She was very unhappy. I tried to get my father to trade her to someone further south, but he liked having her because it kept me out of the maidens' bedrooms and out of trouble. I always felt guilty because I was the reason he kept her."

       She stroked his neck and gave him a little kiss, trying to soothe his ache.

       "I'm sure you did everything you could to make her as comfortable as possible."

       He nodded. "I did. But I couldn't get her home. I'd promised her I'd get her home, and I couldn't keep that promise."

       "If she belonged to your dad, and if he wouldn't let her go, then there wasn't anything you could have done."

       He shook his head. "No. There wasn't."

       She snuggled closer, knowing he would like that, and was rewarded with a tender kiss on her temple. His blip turned crimson and she smiled to herself happily.

       "I love you," she whispered.

       He sighed and drew her closer.

       "I'm honored that you trusted me enough to allow me to be one of the very few people you'd let do that to you," she commented,

        _'Willingly let do to me,'_  came the dark thought, and she had to act quick to hide her surprise, but the stray sending set off a cascade of unpleasant images and feelings that she knew she wasn't going to be able to hide from Eric. Sure enough, his contentment turned to confusion and concern.

       "My lover?"

       Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. How could she play this such that he didn't realize that she'd heard his thoughts? "Eric... Earlier you said something... you said there were only three people in your long life that you willingly let do that to you. Does that mean there were others who... where you were unwilling?"

       He was silent for a long time, and she held her breath.

       "You felt that?" he asked softly.

       "Um... yea," she agreed, not knowing what he was talking about.

       "Our bond is very strong if you felt that. It was only fleeting, a ghost of a memory."

       "But one that caused you pain," she stated, relieved because he believed she'd felt his brief stab of pain and not that she'd dipped into his mind.

       "Yes."

       There was more silence between them, heavy and still.

       "Will you tell me?" she pressed.

       "There isn't much to tell. I was part of a war party that raided a neighboring land. We lost and I was taken prisoner. Sexual humiliation was the norm for captured enemies in those days, and my ass became the target of most of my captors."

       She gasped, fighting back tears. "They raped you."

       "It was not unexpected," he said casually. "I knew what would happen to me if I were captured. I'd planned to die with my kinsmen, and I tried very hard to die when I knew the battle was lost, but I'd had the misfortune of being seen by the kingdom's Queen, and she ordered me taken alive. So rather than die with my brothers, I was spared, only to be thrown to the mercy of my jailers. I was injured, and too weak to fight them off, so they had their way with me."

       She sobbed. "Oh Eric. I'm so sorry!"

       "Don't be. It isn't worth your tears, my lover. Please."

       She looked at him, mortified. "How can you say that? They raped you. My God, Eric, they  ** _raped_**  you!" She stopped, cold realization hitting her. "That's why you hate rape so much. Why it hurt you so badly when you thought you'd raped me..."

       His expression was gentle as he took her face in his hands and he kissed her tears away. "It was different times, my lover. Rape was a means to subdue. We've all had to suffer such things in our lives. You were raped too, you know."

       "But Bill didn't mean to rape me!" she argued, horrified. "Debbie Pelt locked me in that damn trunk with him, and he didn't know what he was doing. And he felt horrible about it afterwards. He didn't pass me around like some war trophy! Oh my God, Eric! How did you get away?"

       "I didn't. The Queen was a vampire. I was to be one of her sacrifices, but she told me that, if I could entertain her for seven nights, I would live. I used all the skills Mai-Pei had taught me, and I pleased her. But on the night she was to set me free, she deemed me too entertaining to let go so she brought me over."

       She didn't think it was possible for her to be any more revolted, but she felt the bile rushing up her throat, and she had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting up her dinner. She sat up, retching and choking, and Eric sat up with her, embracing her, his eyes wide with alarm.

       "My darling? My darling, are you all right?"

       "That's why you refused Hallow's offer! Because your maker insisted that you screw her for a week! That's why you're glad your maker is dead," she gasped, forcing down her nausea.

       "What? No. I'm not glad she's dead. I'm glad she has no power over me anymore," he replied. He was rubbing her back and holding her hair, just in case probably.

       "Did you kill her?"

       "What? No. She ran afoul of a stronger vampire and he killed her."

       "But you escaped."

       He nodded. "I did. I was her favorite pet, but I was too cunning and shrewd to let myself be caught. I slipped away in the hold of a ship and jumped overboard as soon as it reached deep water. From there I swam to Europe and the rest..." He waved a hand. "The rest is history."

       She looked at him, at his blue eyes, his sardonic smile, his beautiful face... and she started crying again. "Eric... oh, Eric..."

       "No. No, no, no," he stated firmly. "Do not think me a victim. After those first nights in the cell, once I had healed enough to fight my captors, I did not make their conquest of me easy and they gave up trying. And I have not allowed anyone to subdue me since. I may not have always been as strong as I am now, but I have always been good at getting out alive.

       "So no. No, no, no, my lover. No tears for me. If I had not been captured, if I had not suffered and been chosen by the Queen, I would have been dead centuries ago."

       He was trying to make her feel better, trying in that vampire way to brush aside all the badness that life had brought to him, just as Sophie-Anne had brushed aside everything she had suffered with a "fffft!" Was that what happened after hundreds of years of life?

_'Oh please stop crying. I hate it when you cry!'_

       The expression on his face was helpless, as if the big boss vampire was done in by a silly human's tears, and she couldn't help but laugh.

       "You hate it when I cry," she said, sniffling.

       "I don't hate it when you cry. I'm just not wearing anything for you to blow your nose on!" he blurted, his eyes wide.

       That made her laugh even more, and once she started, she couldn't stop, and then Eric was laughing with her, chuckling and wrapping her up in his arms. She hugged him back, pressing close, loving the feel of him, the smell of him with her sharpened senses, and she felt his mood change as he began to pet and nuzzle her. She smiled, grateful for the gifts of trust he had given her and the pleasure they were about to share. Soon they were kissing, Eric settling between her legs for a bout of slow, sweet lovemaking, and she sighed and gave herself over to his very talented hands.

       He was right. Quality  ** _was_**  better than quantity.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

_Chapter Sixteen_

 

       "Eric?" she asked.

       They were snuggling again, in that post-coital bliss that made her feel completely safe and content. The blankets were warm around them and her lover was a cool, solid strength.

       "Yes, my lover?"

       "Who was the third?"

       "The third?" he repeated, confused. She smiled. His mind could often be muddled after good sex.

       "The third woman you let... do what I did to you," she clarified.

       The only time she'd ever felt anything akin to freefall had been the day the Pyramid of Gizeh hotel had been bombed, and she and Eric had escaped out the window with Pam in her coffin. Eric had held onto her, and slowed their plummet as much as he could so they wouldn't smash against the pavement, but the fall had still been terrifying. She was feeling that stomach-in-her-throat sensation again as Eric's emotions plunged downward to a black pit.

       She was shocked and horrified by how quickly he fell, and she scrambled not to get dragged down with him, clawing her way back up out of the abyss, but even as she clung to the edge of despair, she still found herself reaching back for him.

       "Eric!"  ** _'ERIC!'_**

       Her pain and fear brought him back to himself, and she felt him get a hold on his careening emotions. She lifted herself up to look over him, her hands on his chest, her fingers digging into his pectoral muscles. His face was even paler than it normally was, his eyes wide and full of panic. His thoughts were chaos; she couldn't make any sense of them.

       "Eric!"

       He cast her an anguished glance and placed one of his hands over hers as he snapped back to the present. She felt him lift himself out of the pit and nearly sobbed with relief.

       "I'm sorry," he gasped. "I'm sorry."

       He drew a deep breath and she felt the chaotic swirl of emotions settle down.

       "Forgive me. I wasn't expecting that question," he apologized, his hand coming up to stroke her back.

       "It's okay. You don't have to answer it." Judging by his reaction, she was terrified to hear his reply.

       He took a few more moments to gather himself. "No. No, it's okay. You asked me a question, and I... will answer it."

       She took his hand in both of hers, and sent her love and concern through the bond.

       "I already know it's not an answer I want to hear," she said.

       "No," he agreed.

       "Then you don't have to tell me. I'm sorry I brought up something so painful for you."

       "It's the magic here. I told you it strips you of all your masks." He took a deep breath. "I just wasn't expecting  ** _this_**  mask to get ripped off. Nothing like this happened the last time I was here." It was almost a whine. He frowned, his brows furrowing.

       "Maybe you weren't here long enough," she offered. She could feel that he was still shaking.

       He looked at her, his expression tortured, but then something clicked and he grew very calm. It was like the night Victor attacked them at her house. Once Eric had made his decision, all of the tension had rushed out of the room, and this situation was no different. Once he had come to whatever conclusion or epiphany he'd reached, he assimilated the information and let it go.

       "Or maybe it was because I wasn't here with you. Maybe these masks are coming off now because I have blood-bonded again, and those old wounds must be healed before we can fully commit to each other," he said.

       "Blood-bonded again?" she repeated, then felt silly. Eric was over 1000 years old, of course he'd blood-bonded before. Duh.

       He gently pushed her hands aside and sat up, taking a moment to brush her cheek tenderly. "I should not have mentioned how many others I had allowed to breach me. I should have known you would catch on to the fact that there were three. You are far too smart for something like that to have slipped by you, but it's too late now. I can only hope that you understand why I did not tell you about her earlier..."

       She tried to stop him. "Eric..."

       "No. Our bond is strong. There should be no secrets between us."

       She held her tongue because she knew she was keeping a whopper by not telling him she could hear his thoughts. He was calming down enough for her to be able to make sense of them, but she was actually trying to block them. Whatever she had triggered, it was very old and very painful.

       He took her hand and held it tight. He probably would have broken bones if not for her new strength from his blood.

       "Sookie, I haven't spoken of her in seven hundred years..."

       She put up a hand. "I need a drink. If we're going to do this, I want a drink. Do you want one of your blood pods? They're probably cold by now, but I could heat one up," she babbled, grinning.

       If he was going to be spilling the beans about a former lover, she wanted alcohol to take off the edge. He stared at her in his serious "I wish I could just glamour you" way, then gave in.

       "Alright. Yes. I could use a drink," he agreed.

       She was out of bed before he could stop her. "Okie dokie." She picked up the steamer with the blood pods in it. "I'll just squeeze one of these puppies out for you and heat it up, and I'll be back in a jiffy. I'll even put the fairy blood one in the freezer in hopes that we can take it home and use it later, 'k?"

       She didn't bother to grab her robe, thinking she was lucky enough to be getting away with leaving the bedroom, and she hurried for the stairs.

       "Sookie."

       The word was a command and she came to halt, turning slowly to look at him. He was still sitting on the bed, one leg curled underneath him. He looked seriously at her and she could not make herself look away.

       "I didn't love her more," he stated.

       She blinked. "Oh. Well... umm... I'll be right back."

       She whirled and skittered down the steps, angry at herself for her own cowardice, and she stood, shivering in the kitchen as she waited for the blood to heat up in the microwave. She'd squeezed one of the O-negs into a tall drinking glass and stuck the other in the fridge. She did as she said she would and put the fey blood one in the freezer. She had no idea if it would be any good once they got it home.

       She took longer than she needed because she was trying to get her head on straight, and she concentrated on getting her own emotions under control. The distance between them was helping both of them to calm down, but the downside was that she was getting calm enough to tune in again.

        _'Why now?'_  she heard him think.  _'After so long? Why now when you are on the verge of happiness?'_

       She got very still and almost stopped breathing.

_'She'll be horrified. No point in telling her all of it. If you keep the truth from her, she will know and it will hurt your bond. Maybe all of this is coming out because it must be purged. Rip off the scab and let the wound bleed. If she truly loves you, she will love the scars too. You will only hurt her. You hurt yourself by keeping it inside. The mask is off. Trust the magic. It knows what you need. Isn't that why you brought her here? Trust your bond. Trust your bonded. She is the strongest human you have ever met.'_

       Listening to his mental battle, she knew he was about to open some old wounds, and she wasn't going to like what he had to tell her, but he was trying to be brave, even though the memories hurt him. His bravery shamed her. It was his badness that he'd suffered, and there she was hiding in the kitchen because she was too chickenshit to hear him talk about an old lover. Her cowardice didn't become her, and Eric deserved better.

       She mentally smacked herself, put on her big girl panties, and took the heated blood back up to her bonded. Eric was waiting for her in much the same position she had left him except that he had poured her a glass of wine. He handed it to her as she handed him the glass of warm blood, and she tapped the wine glass against the lip of his tall one.

       "Cheers."

       "Skaal," he replied.

       They both drank, and she tried not to notice how her hand was shaking. His eyes never left hers, and she could feel his indecision.

       "Eric," she began, sitting beside him on the bed and preparing herself. "You know you can tell me anything, even if it's bad or ugly or painful."

       He took a deeper draught from his glass and she watched him swallow, then lick his lips.

       "You might regret saying that," he warned.

       "I'm sure I will, but I want to know about the things that hurt you."

       "You're being very brave, but then I already knew you were the bravest person I know."

       She shook her head and lowered her eyes. "I'm not brave."

       He reached over and took her chin, making her look at him again. "You  ** _are_**  brave; brave enough to hear what I have to tell you even though it will make you want to cry and feel badly for me. But please remember, my lover, that all of this happened a  _very long_  time ago, and it does not hurt me so much now.

       "It is only our coming here that has brought all of this to the surface. Or maybe it is our bonding. Maybe both. The magic here works in strange ways. If this is coming out, there must be a reason, and I can only trust it."

       "I understand." She took another drink from her wine glass and prepared herself. "Okay, I'm ready."

       He hesitated and took a minute to finish his drink. The blood made him a little pinker and put more flush in his cheeks, which was good because he'd been as white as she'd ever seen him. When he was done drinking, he set the empty glass down on the bedside table, and reached for her.

       "I want to hold you, my lover, while I do this. I want to feel you warm and soft in my arms as I tell you my tale. You will keep me anchored to you and keep me from getting swept away."

       Well, Hell, what could she say to that? She took another swig from her wine glass, figured she'd had enough for the moment, and set the glass down next to his empty one. Then she moved to cuddle against him as he propped himself up with pillows braced against the headboard of the bed and drew the blankets up to cover both of them. Once they were settled into a comfortable position, she placed one hand over his un-beating heart and waited.

       "Before I tell you about Svala, I must tell you about Inara, my Queen, the one who made me," he began softly.

       He was tense despite the fact that he was trying to calm himself by playing with her hair. She remained silent, but tried to comfort him by snuggling closer and petting his chest. He sighed and nuzzled her temple, kissing her there gently.

       "She was very old, although I do not know how old. In retrospect, I would put her around seven or eight hundred by the time she had made her way north from Arabia, but she never told me anything of her history or where she had originally come from," he continued.

       "She was a cruel mistress with a fondness for the perverse. I should have known that when she made my first meals out of the men who had raped me. She gave them to me one by one on successive nights, and took great pleasure in my killing them, then she would have me pleasure her until she'd had her fill of me."

       He paused and she could feel him gathering his thoughts.

       "At first I was unstable from the change, but once I had settled into my new life, I became a willful child. I'd realized what had been done to me, who was responsible, and that my Queen had lied to me. I had kept my part of the bargain, but she had not released me as she had promised. I was very angry, and she had to punish me for my disobedience many, many times. Everything I know about effective torture, I learned at the hands of my maker. I do not think there are many flavors of pain that she did not have me taste."

       He stopped again, waiting. Perhaps he thought she would have a comment or a question, but she was too busy trying to keep her own emotions in check that she had no time to worry about his. He'd warned her it would be bad, and he hadn't been kidding. What was it with vamp-hos torturing their children?

       "She kept me close to her. Every time I tried to run away, she called me back. Each time my punishment was more severe, and she delighted in my humiliation. I once endured three months of being bound in silver manacles after I'd tried to escape her. Another time, she chained me to her like a dog with a collar around my neck. A third time, she cut off two of my fingers, and I had to wait six weeks for them to grow back."

       She gulped, remembering how Eric had said it hurt very much when parts grew back. She'd had the impression before that he had been speaking from personal experience, and now she knew that her suspicions had been correct. She shuddered and swallowed hard, but kept her mouth shut.

       "Eventually, I stopped trying to escape. I learned my place, learned what was expected of me, learned how to play the game of vampire politics, and, as long as I performed my duties and kept her satisfied, I was treated well. This was my life for the first one hundred and forty years of my existence as a vampire."

       There was another pause, and she found herself fighting the urge to stake a vamp-bitch who had probably been dead before the New World had been discovered. Eric felt her irritation and chuckled.

       "Would you have killed her, my lover, like you staked that vamp- _ho_  Lorena?" he asked with amusement.

       She huffed. "Eric, I would have staked her ass so fast, she wouldn't have had a chance to yank your chain."

       "You would have had to fight me first. I was under oath to her. As my maker, she could force me to die in her place," he told her soberly.

       "Just another reason for me to hate vamp politics," she complained.

       He sighed, and she was glad he didn't remind her how deep into vamp politics they both were.

       "It was a difficult time for me. I had always been a proud man, and I was not easily cowed. Inara did not want me broken, but she did want me obedient, and she did what she had to do to keep me in line."

       "I take it you didn't have much affection for her."

       "No, I did not," he replied in a cold voice.

       She kissed his skin and ran her fingers through his chest hair. "So what happened?"

       "Christianity was coming to Scandinavia, and it was no longer safe to stay where we were. The missionaries were sadistic zealots who killed anyone who would not convert. This didn't affect us, of course, but the new believers were dangerous. I blame the coming of Christianity for the vampires being forced underground. Prior to that we held some place in Pagan society. Inara was a Demon Queen, and she was feared and respected, as was I as her enforcer. We were known – although humans did not know exactly ** _what_**  we were ñ and we had those who served us, and those who left us alone because they feared us. But Christianity changed all of that, and we were forced to flee when a mob attacked our stronghold. We escaped with the help of our human servants, but we were separated in the process, and I took my chance to run."

       She tried to imagine what it had been like for him. He must have thought he was finally free of a brutal mistress. Somehow she knew that didn't last long.

       "I went home. Everyone I knew and loved was dead, but I still longed for the familiar countryside and places of my youth. I settled along the coast of Norway and lived alone. I preyed on stray raiding parties and unsuspecting travelers. I was free for the first time in almost two hundred years, and I was happy. Then I met Svala."

       He paused, considering, then continued in an instructional tone. "It is a common misconception that vampires do not have feelings. This is not true. In fact, the reality is quite the opposite. We feel everything very intensely, especially when we are new. We have to lock our emotions away or they consume us, and it takes us years of practice to develop the emotional detachment that is necessary to our survival. You, my irritating darling, have always been able to break through my shell and make me feel emotions I have suppressed. You have no idea how much I resented you for that."

       "Oh I think I may have gotten some idea," she commented.

       He laughed and stroked her arm. "I am sure you did. I have not made any of this easy for you. I'm sorry, my lover, if I have been... difficult."

       Difficult was not the word she would use, but she wasn't going to argue the point. "It's okay. We're working it out."

       He kissed her hair and nuzzled her again. "Thank you for being so patient with me. I know I'm an ass."

       "I didn't make it easy on you either," she reminded.

       "No," he agreed. "My point is Svala did the same thing to me. She was a fisherman's daughter, and I caught her one night wandering alone along the beach I considered part of my territory. Her father and brothers had gone out to sea, but a storm had hit and they had yet to return. She was scouring the coastline for any sign of a wreck, and she all but bumped into me. She was beautiful, and I had been alone for almost a decade. I was still fairly young by vampire standards, and I was lonely, and I fell victim to my emotions."

       He stopped again, and she felt his joy and his sadness.

       "Her menfolk never returned, and it was assumed they'd drowned at sea. She had no one because her mother had died birthing her younger brother, and she was at the mercy of her male clansmen so I took her in. I glamoured her at first, but then I found that I wanted her to know me as I was so I revealed myself."

       "How'd that go?" she asked, caught up in the story, in the romance of a young vampire Eric finding a strange girl on his beach. It was the stuff of bodice-ripper novels. She could imagine the cover: Eric bare-chested, his blond hair whipping in the wind, a poor maiden clutched in his embrace with a crashing sea behind them as a backdrop.

       "Amazingly, she accepted me. I loved her utterly and I blood-bonded with her. We lived together as mates and lovers for twelve years before I brought her over."

       "Wait. You made her a vampire?"

       "Yes." He made it sound as simple as taking her to the magistrate's office to change her name.

       "Then what happened? Did she stay with you?"

       "Yes. As I said, blood-bondeds often do if the bond is strong enough before the change. We were very happy. We were together for another sixty years. We left the coast and traveled down into lower Scandinavia and Russia, settling in remote places for a few years at a time before moving on. Our lives were as perfect as perfect could get."

       "I'm sensing an unhappy ending here," she said with trepidation.

       "Yes," he confirmed sadly.

       She searched for his hand and held it, offering him her love and comfort. He pulled her even closer as she felt the despair creeping into the bond. The badness was coming, and she braced for it.

       "I was convinced my Queen was dead, you see. I couldn't imagine that she would have let me go free for eighty years if she had survived. Little did I know that she was just biding her time. She had reestablished herself in what would become Latvia, and she wanted me to serve her again. When she Called me, I was terrified. I didn't know then that it was useless to resist. I fought and fought the Call as hard as I could. Svala was in a terrible state because of it. But, eventually, I had to go to my maker. I didn't have a choice. I told Svala not to follow me, but to go into hiding and I would find her when I could. I didn't know when I could get away again, but I vowed that I would return to her."

       He stopped. He'd started to tremble, and she'd started humming a little tune that her Gran used to hum to her when she was upset. She hoped it would have the same effect on him.

       "You don't have to continue. I think I can guess what happened next," she said.

       "I am sure that you can, my lover, but... but this must be purged. I've never spoken of this to anyone. In seven hundred years, I have never told another of my kind or a human what Inara did to me. I need to be rid of this now. It is silver shackles around my heart," he explained.

       She hunkered down and curled her fingers against his chest. "Okay."

       "Do you need a moment? Would you like another sip of your wine?"

       She shook her head. She had a feeling she'd be drinking the whole bottle before the night was over, but she wanted to be lucid now. "No. You can go on. I can take it. If you can tell me, I can hear it."

       He made a soft sound of gratitude and stroked her hair, his hand unsteady. She squeezed the hand she still held and waited. He went on a few moments later.

       "By the time I got to my maker, she had reduced me to crawling. She forced me to debase myself at her feet, forced me to service her ñ which I did even though the thought of touching her revolted me. She knew I was hiding something from her, but I would not tell her about Svala so she punished me terribly."

       He stopped and she could feel his anger, hate and agony coming across the bond. It made her want to vomit, but she held on, gripping him tightly. She knew she didn't want to know, but she had to ask.

       "What did she do to you?"

       "She... she cut off my feet above the ankles and threw me in a dark cell."

       "Oh my God."

       She sat up, gasping for breath as she fought to keep her dinner down. Tears were running down her face, and she didn't even realize she was crying until she felt the wetness dripping off her chin.

       "Oh my God, Eric. Oh, Eric."

       "I told you it would make you cry and feel bad for me," he said, sounding resigned.

       "What sane person wouldn't cry and feel bad for you?" she countered.

       He didn't answer, and she looked at him in horror because she just knew he wasn't finished.

       "What happened next?"

       "She starved me at first, then she threw animals into my cell for me to hunt on my hands and knees. Rats. Chickens. Pigs. It took four months, but my feet grew back. It was agonizingly painful."

       "And Svala?" She didn't want to know; she knew she didn't.

       "When my Queen was starving me, in my delirium, I... answered her questions."

       "Oh no."

       "Of course, Svala already knew I was in dire straits because we were blood-bonded. She couldn't stand to feel my pain, and I didn't know how to block the bond to spare her. She came out of hiding to try to come to my aid..."

       "Inara killed her," she gasped.

       "Yes," Eric confirmed, blood tears brimming his eyes, then he drew a deep breath and said it. "Inara killed Svala."

       He gave her a shocked look, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I've never said that out loud. My maker murdered my bonded."

       By now she was sobbing, unable to hold back, and she reached for him, needing to hold him, needing to comfort him because it was too awful for words. He sat up and let her embrace him, hugging her to himself as she wrapped her arms around him and wept for both of them.

       "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she cried.

       "I knew the moment it happened. Inara didn't even need to show me the jewelry I had given my mate as proof of the kill. I felt the bond break, and it broke me."

       "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God. Eric. Eric."

       She clutched him, pressing his face to her breasts, her nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders as she tried to cleave him to her, to protect him from the badness, from the terrible truth. She gripped his blond mane, burying her face into his golden hair as she rocked him. He allowed it, allowed her paltry human comfort to attempt to lave the wounds on his heart. She didn't know who was soothing who.

       "Eric, I'm so sorry."

       "It's alright. I'm okay."

       "It's not alright! She killed your blood-bonded and cut off your feet! I'm so glad she's dead!" She pulled away so she could look him in the eye. "Please tell me whoever it was made her suffer."

       "I honestly don't know. After she broke me, I served her for another hundred years. That's how long it took for the wound left from the severed bond to heal, and for me to put myself back together. I probably would have met the sunrise during that time if Inara hadn't kept me with her constantly for the next thirty of those years. She forced me to stay alive. She said I belonged to her, that my life was not mine to take."

       She growled. "That unbelievable bitch."

       "Don't be angry. If she hadn't done that, I would never have become what I am, and I would never have met you. In an odd way, I'm grateful to her."

       "I'm not. Fucking ho."

       Her curse made him smile. "I do love you, my lover."

       She crossed her arms. "So who offed her, and is he still around so I can send him a thank you note?"

       That made him chuckle and shake his head. "He was an Inquisitor turned vampire, and he was using his ties with the Church to flush out potential rivals. He had heard of my Queen and the powerful nest she was building."

       He stopped and gave her a smile that was frightening and cruel. "I will let you in on a secret. I knew he was coming. I purposefully did not tell my Queen, and I slipped away to safety just before dawn on the day of the assault. I was already stowed away on a merchant ship when my Queen's lair was attacked."

       He waggled his eyebrows at her, his eyes dancing, as his expression turned smug.

       "You see, I had learned well from my father. He taught me that loyalty through fear and brutality was not loyalty at all, and that your men would turn on you in a heartbeat if they thought they had found someone who could protect them from your wrath. He taught me that leadership with fairness, and an appropriate show of strength, bred men who would follow you to their deaths. I spent decades cultivating my own following of loyal subjects who hated the Queen as much as I did. So while I was bedding her, I was also plotting my vengeance. The coming of Carus merely hastened my plans.

       "When my human informants told me Carus was hunting Inara, I laid crumbs for him to follow, and led him right to the Queen's daytime resting place, then I got out before she even had a chance to suspect my treachery. I took two of her not-so-loyal officers with me, and we all jumped ship after the sun went down. We made land in Lithuania and made our way west, and eventually went our separate ways."

       "So is Carus still alive?" she asked, not surprised to hear that he'd betrayed his maker. It made her wonder if he'd ever betray her, but her very soul shrank at the prospect. Blood-bondeds did not betray each other.

       "No. He was killed in Germany sometime in the 1600's. I felt badly. I owed him my freedom, but..." He shrugged and gave her a sheepish smile.

       "That's too bad. I would have sent him a box of TrueBlood and a gold medal."

       He laughed and kissed her, letting his lips linger on her mouth. His hands came up to cup her face as he kissed her again. She could feel his despair morphing into arousal, the need to reconnect and feel loved after making himself so vulnerable.

       "I love you, my lover, my bonded," he breathed into her mouth, making her shiver.

       He looked at her, his face beatific as he studied her, his blue eyes full of warmth, and it took her breath away. Was this magnificent creature who had suffered and survived so much really hers?

       "Thank you for being so brave. I feel... light as if a weight has been lifted from me. A weight I didn't even know was there. You are remarkable, my lover."

       "I didn't do anything. All I did was listen."

       "And cry for me. Your tears..." He licked her face, maybe to taste the remnants of the salt on her cheeks. "... are jewels."

       Oh yeah, definite shift in the mood now. His tongue dipped into the hollow behind her ear as he pressed close. She sighed as he let his fang scrape along her throat as he bent his head down to her chest, and she trembled as he licked the valley between her breasts.

       "Is it alright, my lover?" he asked tentatively.

       She arched her back and threaded her fingers into his hair. "Do you have to ask?"

       "I don't want to presume."

       "Eric, you know what I'm feeling," she reminded.

       "I know that, my lover, but too often you've felt one way but done the opposite."

       His reluctance surprised her because he'd never been hesitant when it came to bedding her, but then she reasoned that he'd just ripped himself open and shared some of his most secret and painful memories with her, so it was understandable that he might be feeling a little uncertain.

       "You don't have to worry about that tonight," she whispered comfortingly, lying back on the bed and taking him with her.

       She spread her legs, positioning his hips between them as she held him close to her, stroking his back.

       "Thank you," he murmured, settling himself atop her.

       Their union was more of an affirmation of their bond than a bout of pleasure, although pleasure definitely featured prominently in the joining, and she felt them becoming one on levels that went even deeper than either of them had experienced before. The sex and the mouthfuls of her blood healed his wounded spirit as their connection grew even stronger, and they telegraphed their love for each other in the movement of their bodies. Her hands slid from his bottom to his back as she moved with him, timing the rise and fall of her hips with the pace of his rhythm, keeping him inside her for as long as possible. Their climax was shared and felt by both of them in unison, echoing across the bond like the crescendo of a song, vibrating their souls together until the final notes faded.

       In the aftermath, their positions were reversed. Instead of their normal après-sex cuddling where her head was on his shoulder, his head was nestled against her breasts, his ear pressed close to hear her heartbeat. She crooned under her breath and played with his hair, unwilling to stop stroking him because her touch brought him so much comfort. His braids were looking a little ragged. They'd have to come out soon. She figured she would brush them out before they showered together sometime before dawn. It was just eleven thirty now. They had plenty of night left.

       As she lay there, holding him, getting used to the fact that her lover didn't breathe and had no heartbeat, she thought back to what she had learned tonight, of the horrors her bonded had endured. Inara had done her best to break him, but in the end, Eric had been the one who had triumphed. Still, the price he had paid for that victory had been very high, and she wondered if he ever wished things had been different.

       "Eric?" she asked softly.

       "Yes, my lover?" he replied, contentment in every syllable. She almost felt bad for wanting ask her next question.

       "Do you ever miss her?"

       "Who?" he questioned, then stilled, seeming to understand. "Svala?"

       "Yeah."

       He pulled away and sat up, a quizzical expression on his face. "Why do you ask me this, my lover?"

       She looked away, feeling self-conscious. "Well... she was your blood-bonded. You lived together for eighty years. She died trying to save you..."

       "I have told you, I did not love her more than you. If anything, my love for you is truer because you have always known what I am, and you have never been in my thrall, and yet you chose me anyway."

       She hadn't asked for him to say that, but it warmed her heart all the same. "Thank you, Eric, but that isn't why I asked you. I mean, she was your mate. Surely you... thought of her."

       He looked down, his face pensive, and she felt his reluctance and remembered grief, and she grieved with him.

       "After the severed bond had healed enough for me to no longer want to join her, I found it... unwise to think of her," he admitted. "She was gone, and there was nothing I could do to bring her back, so there was no point in pining for her. It was... counterproductive."

       She nodded. It was a very Eric way of looking at things.

       "I understand."

       "That did not mean I was successful all of the time. The last time I allowed myself to think of her, I ended up making Pam."

       She blinked at him. "Pam?"

       He nodded. "I was at a low point in my life. My nest in Prague had been overrun by a rival nest. Many of my nestmates had been killed and the rest of us scattered. I had made my way to England. I was alone and very lonely."

       He looked at her face as if trying to gauge her thoughts. She sent reassurance and love through the bond and urged him to continue.

       "I was prowling London one night, and I caught a glimpse of a young woman who was the spitting image of my Svala. I thought it was her at first because the resemblance was so startling, but then I quickly realized the bewitching creature was human. That night I followed her home.

       "I was unable to get her out of my thoughts, and I became nearly obsessed with her. I convinced myself that the Gods had smiled upon me and given my Svala back in the form of this human, so I stalked her and waited until one night she snuck out of her house to meet with a young man. What a brazen little thing she was! You should have seen her."

       He smiled with the memory, and she tried to mesh what he was telling her with what Pam had told her of the night she had met her maker.

       "I caught her on her way back. Little sneak trying to creep through the garden. Such a bad girl." His smile faded and he sighed. "I knew the moment I bit her that she wasn't my Svala, but by then it was too late, and I didn't have the heart to kill her. So I fed her my blood and put her back in her bed. Then I waited for the burial and exhumed her that night so she would not have to dig herself out of her own coffin. I explained everything to her when she woke."

       "But you didn't tell her about Svala," she prompted.

       He shook his head. "I told no one about Svala. You are the first person I've told in seven centuries."

       The raw truth was a sledgehammer, and the blow was almost as heavy.

       "If we hadn't come here, and I hadn't asked about the third person, would you have told me about her?"

       He was silent for a while, then he answered slowly. "Probably not."

       She thought about that, turning it over in her head. On one hand, it didn't bode well for honesty in a relationship if he had planned to keep such a big secret from her.

_'Hello! You can read his mind. Pot meet kettle!_

       On the other hand, knowing the truth had ripped open all of Eric's old wounds and put them both through the hell of dragging the memories out into the light. Having felt his agony and grief, she couldn't say that she wouldn't have done the same thing if their places were reversed. And since what had happened occurred seven centuries ago, and everyone involved except Eric was dead, she could see the pragmatist in him deciding that it was best to let sleeping vampires lie.

       "I understand," she said.

       He nodded.

       "You told Pam your companion had gone off on her own."

       "That is what I told her, yes," he confirmed.

       "You lied to her."

       "Svala was my secret, my pain, and I felt guilty enough for what happened. How could I tell her that I'd attacked her, killed her, and made her into a vampire because she looked like my dead mate?"

       "Okay, I can see how that would have been awkward," she conceded.

       "You think?" he asked, his eyebrow raised.

       "I won't tell her," she promised.

       "I know." He said it with complete conviction.

       His faith in her was humbling and she looked down at her hands. She was suddenly very tired.

       "Thank you for sharing with me tonight. For telling me about Svala and for... showing me so much trust earlier," she said, needing to acknowledge the gift he had bestowed upon her.

       His hand stroked her arm as he moved close again, sliding next to her and nuzzling his nose under her chin.

       "Trusting you was easy. I'd do it again if that was what you wanted," he murmured.

       She quivered, remembering how he had looked in the height of his passion. "I... wouldn't mind."

       He pulled away and lay back on the pillows, his eyes turning heated. One hand slid down under the covers, and she had no illusions as to what he was touching. His fangs came down a little.

       Solving everything between them with sex was also a very Eric thing to do, but she was wrung out.

       "Later," she added.

       He pouted and she laughed.

       "Are you sure you didn't sneak that fairy blood when I wasn't looking?" she teased.

       "Believe me, my lover, if I was on fairy blood, there would be no doubt of it," he replied, placing both hands behind his head.

       "Well, you're enough of a handful without it."

       "I am making up for my month of abstinence."

       She snorted. "Oh, like you need a reason to be horny all the time. You forget I've already spent several nights with you at my house, Eric. Multiple repeat performances were the norm."

       "You were up for most of them if I recall correctly."

       He was trying to look innocent, but it wasn't working. She lowered herself down next to him, tucking her head under his chin.

       "Yes, but if you also recall, I did need to sleep sometime."

       He snuggled up, nuzzling her the way he liked to do. Vampires were all about touch and smell.

       "But you're on vacation. You can sleep all day," he pointed-out, wrapping her up in his arms.

       "And I could pass out on you."

       "Are you that tired, my lover?" he whispered, his amorous mood shifting to a more protective one.

       "No, but... I am getting worn out. All this emotional upheaval is draining... no pun intended."

       He chuckled. "I understand. It... drains me too."

       She smiled and placed her hand on his chest, over his heart. He kissed her hair.

       "My darling," he murmured as happiness started seeping into the bond. His little blip was the contented blue-green.

       "Mmmm," she sighed, sinking down into their connection and being rewarded with his love and his pleasant thoughts. He was thinking about how happy he was, about how complete he felt in that moment, and about how he was horny but that he was willing to wait until she was rested, then his thoughts turned decidedly more lascivious and obscene. She made an effort to cut them off before he got too detailed in his fantasies.

        _'You really need to tell him you can hear him,_ ' she thought to herself.  _'It isn't like you can keep it from him forever.'_

       She thought about what that would entail, about how he would feel about having his thoughts privy to her, and decided that now was not the time to ruin a perfectly good cuddle with more unpleasantness.

_'I'll tell him... tomorrow.'_

       "What's on your mind, my lover?" he asked, and his question surprised her. For a moment she was afraid that Izzy's prediction had come true, and Eric could hear her thoughts, but he just gave her a curious look when she lifted her head. "Your emotions are fluctuating, and I can almost hear the wheels in your head turning, you're thinking so hard."

       "I was just letting my mind wander," she hedged.

       "And where was it taking you on your wanderings?"

       She needed to divert him and send him in the wrong direction. "I was just wondering what Pam was like as a young vamp."

       It wasn't a lie. Ever since Pam had told her about Eric bringing her over, she had wondered what it had been like for her. The half-truth was the only way she was able to get away with her little white lie.

       He grinned fondly. "Wild. We had sex many times. She was a lioness in bed. Women in those days were so sexually repressed. She threw off the moral shackles of her mortal life pretty quickly." He chuckled. "She was a handful though. A little disobedient in the beginning. I had to punish her a few times to get her to obey me."

       She gasped and he hurried to reassure her. "I was never cruel to her or sadistic. My punishments weren't anything like what my maker had done to me. I never hurt her... badly. I never beat her, or starved her, or cut off any of her body parts. I knew perfectly well how to torture, and I showed no mercy to my enemies, but I never harmed my child. I never forced her to have sex with me, and, as soon as I felt she was in control of herself enough to go out on her own, I let her leave me."

       "She told me that she went out on her own for many years before you called her to help with Fangtasia."

       He nodded. "Yes. I made her a partner, of course. She profits from her labors in compensation for having to serve me again. Eventually, once Fangtasia is well established, I will release her and she can leave if she wants."

       "She's said she serves you willingly, that she is glad to serve."

       He shrugged again. "All of my people serve me willingly. I am a good sheriff. I inspire great loyalty in my subjects because I treat them fairly." He cast her a sullen look. "I treat you  _very_  fairly."

       She snorted and gave him a coy glance through her eyelashes. "And yet I defy you and give you trouble."

       He gave her another look, and she didn't have to peek into his thoughts to know what he was thinking. She stopped him right there, her eyes opening wide.

       "No. Oh no. Do not even  _think_  of doing anything to me," she warned, poking him in the chest.

       "If you have accepted our bond, there would be no reason for me to punish you. To do so would be to hurt myself because I would feel your pain. Besides, if I were to... punish you, you might end up liking it. Pam began to enjoy... darker sex afterwards."

       She gave him a wry smile. "Not into whips and chains, huh?" That was actually good to know.

       He frowned. "Not really. Some vampires derive great pleasure from violent blood play during sex, but I'm not one of them."

       Considering his history, that kind of made sense.

       "I've never done anything like that," she confessed.

       He gave her a leer and touched her face gently. "Perhaps some night when we are alone, and you feel safe with me, you will let me blindfold you and bind your hands. There is great pleasure to be had in surrendering control."

       She gave him a heated look. "Like you surrendered to me earlier?"

       "Oh yes. You liked it too. You liked doing that to me. It made you feel powerful."

       She couldn't deny it. She remembered how he had looked when he was writhing under her attentions, how beautiful his face had been, how knowing she had pleasured him had made her feel. He gave her a slow smile because he could feel her starting to become aroused again, and she wanted to mentally slap herself. She was becoming as bad as him, or maybe it was just the strength of their bond that she was beginning to be able to match his desire with her own.

       "Maybe I should be the one blindfolding you and tying you up," she countered.

       "I would let you," he replied. "As long as I knew we were completely safe. I'm sorry, my lover, but I would never let you to do that to me outside of my house. It is the only place I know of that is secure enough for me to allow myself to be so compromised."

       "You don't think I could protect you? Or at least release you before anything bad happened to you?"

       "I think things happen very fast in our world and there is no telling if you would have the time to unlatch the bindings," he replied reasonably.

       She knew he was right. With demons and fairies able to blip in and out of places at will, unless her house had some pretty serious protection spells on it, an attacker could wait until Eric was indisposed then attack while he was at a disadvantage.

       "I suppose you're right," she agreed, tucking her head back under his chin.

       "I know I'm right," he said smugly.

       "Do you ever get tired of being right?" she complained. There were nights when his ego really was too big for the room they were in.

       "No."

       "Jackass."

       "Of course. You thought otherwise?"

       "Hrumph."

       "What else would you like to do to me, my lover? I know you would like to tie me up and blindfold me and have me surrender to you. What else?" he inquired sensuously.

       "I wasn't actually being serious about the tie you up and blindfold you thing. Besides, you're the one with ten centuries of experience. Why don't you tell me?"

       He chuckled. "But you are so creative. No one has ever turned me into a dessert before."

       "Liked that, did you?" she asked smugly.

       "Oh yes. So much so that I ignored you when you said no chocolate sauce with tonight's meal."

       "What did you order?" she questioned wearily, mentally rolling her eyes.

       "What does it matter? You said you were all worn out," he teased.

       She groaned. "Fine. Be that way. I can eat you tomorrow."

       "My lover?"

       "Yeah?"

       "It's after midnight. It's already tomorrow."

       She reached over, grabbed a handy pillow, and smacked him with it. He just laughed, and proceeded to show her that two could play at that game. Soon they were giggling, tangled up in each other and the bed sheets, then Eric helped her forget all of the reasons why she had thought she was too tired to make love again, and they coupled in a tender merging of their bodies and hearts, enhanced by chocolate.

       Eric had ordered French Silk Pie.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

  
_Chapter Seventeen_

       Sookie woke at close to five o'clock in the morning, a scant two hours before dawn, to find Eric pressed against her back. They were spooned around each other, Eric holding her, her head on a pillow that was tucked over his arm because his bicep had turned out to be an uncomfortable cushion. She was curled into him, her back to his chest, his arms around her, their legs tangled together, their hair meshing across their shoulders and the pillow.

       He was lying very still so that meant he was in downtime, and she allowed herself a few minutes to just enjoy being held. The best thing about cuddling with a vampire was that they were very considerate bed partners. They didn't move around a lot, they didn't suffer from muscle cramps, and they didn't steal the covers. In her book, that made up for the lack of body heat because she'd heard enough complaints, both verbally and mentally, from bar patrons about their partner's sleeping habits. Oh, and vampires didn't snore either. Bonus.

       After their last bout of lovemaking, she and Eric had showered, and, much to her supreme embarrassment, Eric had called to have someone come change the bed. Luckily whoever it was came while they were taking their time in the bathroom – shower ala Eric always included the obligatory love play even though actual sex did not occur, then they rubbed each other dry and brushed through each other's hair. Really, the intimacy just about did her in when he took the brush and smoothed out her hair like he'd been doing it for years.

       Between the washing, the massaging, and the fooling around, they were in the bathroom for over forty minutes; plenty of time for someone to enter the cabin, change the bed and whisk away the soiled sheets. Whoever it was even left a single red rose and a little pile of foil-wrapped chocolates on the neatly arranged eiderdown and pillows. She just about died from embarrassment, but Eric had just laughed and popped a chocolate into her mouth so he could lick the remnants off her lips. After that, she'd obliged him with a session of mutual pleasuring which left them both very happy and sated, then they'd snuggled up on the clean bed and she fell asleep.

       She sighed, feeling so safe and loved and content. The bed was comfortable, her partner was amazing, there were no wolves howling at the door (Hey, in her life sometimes that was literally!), and all was right with the world for the moment. She wanted to stay right there in their little cocoon of peace and satisfaction, with not a care outside of their own needs of the moment.

       A twitch from her lover told her that he'd come out of downtime, and she leaned into him when she felt his lips lightly kiss her shoulder.

       "Eric?" she whispered softly.

       "No," he answered in clipped tones.

       "Huh?"

       "No. Whatever it is, no. The past two times you've said my name with that inflection of inquiry, I ended up... how do they say these days? Spilling my guts, and frankly, I would rather rip open my own body, and disembowel myself literally, before I did any more gut spilling tonight. So the answer is no."

       She giggled, and craned her head to look over her shoulder at him.

       "But you don't even know what I was going to ask."

       "Doesn't matter. Whatever it is, it will involve more talking. I'm done with talking. I am placing a moratorium on talking. There are two hours before dawn. If I have to, I will spend them occupying your mouth with other things."

       She rolled in his arms, and he moved to lie on his back. She propped herself up to look down at him, and he was giving her a look that just dared her to challenge him.

       "Is that so?" she asked, feeling naughty.

       He raised an eyebrow, his eyes dilating with want. She thought she could see his fangs coming down a little.

       "And what, pray tell, did you have in mind for keeping my mouth occupied for two hours?"

       His lips parted, showing the tips of his fangs, and he smiled slowly as his hand slid down to her backside, then, before she had a chance to protest, he gave her a quick slap on one of her cheeks, threw aside the covers and dragged her on top of him, her mouth near his groin and her own crotch over his face. His hand insistently guided her head towards the part of him that needed her attention, and she obliged him as he returned the favor.

       It didn't take two hours. In reality it took less than ten minutes, but Eric drew it out to closer to twenty by continuing to toy with her after her climax. She allowed it as she lay sprawled atop him, boneless and relaxed, and did a little toying of her own with him, running her fingers down behind his scrotum and teasing his entrance. He grunted appreciatively and parted his legs, inviting her to continue, and she took a few minutes to play with the ring of muscle until he stopped what he was doing. She gave him a wicked smile as she crawled off of him, turning herself around to lie alongside him, one hand spread across his chest.

       "Anyway, as I was saying..." she began.

       She didn't get a chance to finish because he knocked her onto her back and covered her mouth with his own, his tongue reaching for her tonsils. She responded until she had to punch him on the shoulder because she needed to breathe. He released her lips, and she drew huge gulps of air into her lungs, her eyes seeing spots floating across her field of vision.

       "You were saying?" he teased, his eyes dancing with humor.

       "I was saying something?"

       He chuckled and bent over her to kiss her more gently, and he gave her a tender smile as he brushed back her hair. Love and joy came across the bond, and she looked into his blue eyes, getting lost in them. The peaceful expression on his face reminded her of the point she'd been trying to make before he'd distracted her.

       "I was just thinking how wonderful this place is," she said quickly, before he tried to stop her again. "And how much I wish we could just stay here."

       He sighed and rolled his eyes a little, then he settled down next to her, his head on the same pillow, his eyes looking directly into hers, his nose mere inches from her face. He was silent, but his expression told her he was listening so she went on.

       "I mean, I'm sure they're always looking for barmaids, and I'm a good one. And I'm sure there's something you could do. You've got a shrewd business sense and a sharp eye for opportunities. Why not stay here? It's peaceful, no one's trying to kill us, I'm not getting beat up every five minutes, and I think I could get used to cold. Wouldn't it be wonderful to not have to worry about Victor or the King or trying to figure out what they're scheming so you can outwit them? Wouldn't it be so much better for you here? Out of all the politics and political maneuvering?"

       He said nothing, merely looked at her, and she considered the absurdity of what she'd just said and blushed. "I'm being ridiculous, aren't I?"

       "No. I can understand why you'd want to stay here," he stated neutrally. "Of course we can stay, if that is what you want. We can stay as long as you like. I am sure I can arrange it. It is not a busy time of year for the resort."

       She sighed and mentally slapped herself. "But you'd be bored stiff in a month."

       "Probably. You would be too."

       She tucked her head under his chin as he put his arm around her. "I might last two months," she answered.

       "Not in the cold. Your spit would freeze before it hit the ground," he replied.

       She shivered just thinking about it. He chuckled and drew her closer, and she snuggled close.

       "I mean... what do I have to go back to? I'm working a dead end job with people who can't stand the fact that I date vampires. My closest relative was murdered. My only brother is an asshole who set me up to break my friend's hand..."

       "You will forgive him," her bonded said gently.

       She huffed. "Not any time soon."

       "He is your brother." An even gentler reminder.

       "Some brother. Do you know one of first things he did after Gran was killed was come storming out of the house and slap me in the face?"

       Eric grew very still, and she knew what she would see if she lifted her head to look at his face. He would be expressionless, cold and deathly dangerous.

       "He... struck you?" he asked very carefully.

       She could hear the rage in his voice and feel it in the bond. He was absolutely beside himself with cold fury, and she wondered if this was what Bill would have felt like if they'd been so tightly bonded when she'd told him about Uncle Bartlett. She knew what Bill had had done to Uncle Bartlett and she was suddenly terrified for Jason.

       "He was upset. Gran had been murdered, and he'd found out that she'd left everything to me," she explained.

       "Was anyone with you when he did this?"

       "Oh sure, lots of people. Bill and Sam and Andy Bellefleur."

       "Bill was there?"

       "Yeah. He caught me when I fell."

       "What did he do to your brother?"

       "Well... nothing. Sam tackled Jason and slammed his face into the ground."

       "Bill did not defend you himself?"

       "He would have but Sam was faster." Now she did lift up to look at him. "Why are you so upset about it anyway? You just slapped me on the butt twenty minutes ago," she accused.

       He gave her an incredulous look and rubbed the offended cheek. "That was a love tap, and I did not do you the least bit of harm."

       "It still stung," she pouted.

       "Shall I kiss it and make it all better?"

       She regarded him for a few moments then turned her body away from him, presenting her backside as she hugged one of the pillows. She felt him moving, his hands caressing her bottom with feather-light touches until she felt his hair brushing across her skin just before his cool lips kissed her upturned cheek. It was amazingly erotic to have him tenderly mouthing her bottom, the feel of his tongue as it flicked out to lick her skin ever so softly. She moaned, then snickered.

       "What?" he asked, his voice deep.

       "I was just thinking about the rush of having one of the most powerful vampires in Louisiana kissing my ass."

       She half expected the second slap so when he whacked her on the other cheek, she wasn't too surprised, but she still yelped a bit, then groaned as he caressed and kissed that sore spot too. When he was done, he patted her bottom lightly, but with an air of possessiveness, as if to say "This ass now belongs to me," which she supposed was true, then he stretched out beside her and drew her close, tucking her into the curve of is body. Since he was so much taller than her, she fit in there like a cog in a wheel.

       "I like this," she whispered. "This is nice. I want to wake up in your arms like this always. And I want us to laugh and make love and have fun together."

       He pulled her closer, the flat of his palm pressed against her solar plexus.

       "We will," he promised.

       She sobered a bit. "But it won't always feel like this, will it?"

       "No. The fire that burns so brightly now will fade to coals, but coals are what burn the longest and provide the most heat. And it is easy to stoke the coals to burn bright again just by adding a little air and fuel."

       She sighed and stroked his arm lightly. "I like the sound of that."

       "Eventually we will not crave each other so desperately, but will come to know each others bodies so well that it will be almost as if we can read each other's thoughts."

       Of course now was the perfect opportunity for her to spill her secret and tell him that she actually could hear his thoughts.

        _'You have to tell him...'_ "Eric..."  _'Go on, tell him.'_  "There's something I have to tell you."

       "Yes, my lover?"

       ' _I can read your thoughts.'_  "Before my cousin Hadley became a vampire, she had a baby."  _'Chicken shit.'_

       He was quiet for a moment, and she held her breath.

       "I... see."

       "He's a little boy. His name is Hunter."

       "I am guessing that, because you are telling me this, he has taken after his cousin?"

       "Yeah."

       He sighed and rolled to his back. She followed, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him. He put one arm under his head as he stared at the ceiling, his face pensive.

       "I wish you had not told me this," he finally said.

       She bit her lip. "You said we should have no secrets between us."  _'Except the big whopper I'm too yellow to tell you.'_

       "Yes, but what I do not know, I cannot be compelled to reveal. Who else knows of this?"

       "No one," she answered immediately, then paused. "Well... actually. Amelia's father was the one who told me about Hadley having a baby, so he knows, and I asked Niall to find Hadley's ex-husband for me. He was the one who gave me Remy Savoy's address."

       Eric's face grew even more serious.

       "Niall knows?"

       "Well, he knows I was looking for Remy Savoy. I didn't tell him why."

       He was still looking at the ceiling, but she knew he was deep in his head. He was thinking hard about what she had told him and the ramifications of the knowledge. She could almost see him moving the different factors into their places, like chess pieces on a board. She had a vague memory about reading somewhere that Vikings had invented chess or something damn close to it. No doubt Eric was setting all the pieces in place and trying to get a look at who was close to checkmate. Somehow she couldn't help but feel like a pawn.

       "If he saw the child, he would have known immediately. Fae recognize their own," he finally said.

       She gulped, realizing that she may have made a big mistake in asking her great-grandfather to find her cousin's ex.

       "How old is he?" Eric asked suddenly.

       "About four."

       "Does the father know of the boy's... handicap?"

       "He suspects. I told him to call me. I told him I was in the book..." Her heart sank. "I told him I wasn't going anywhere."

       She had to stay in Bon Temps because Hunter was going to need her. Almost at about the same moment she thought it, Eric shook his head.

       "You can go wherever you like. Addresses can be forwarded. Phone numbers transferred," he pointed out.

       "That's true, but I should still stay close."

       Eric looked like he was going to disagree. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again.

       "You should..." He paused, considering. "...not draw too much attention to him."

       It was a warning and a command all in one, and she understood: Don't lead Supes to Hunter.

       "I understand."

       He nodded, then raised one hand to brush a finger down her cheek. It was a simple gesture, but it made her heart thrill all the same.

       "You must be careful. Victor must not know about him until he is under someone's protection."

       "Can't he be under our protection?"

       Eric shook his head slightly. "It is unlikely. I have enough protecting you, and I am limited to the nighttime hours. Niall sent you Claudine. He may do the same for the boy."

       "Give Hunter his own fairy godmother?" she asked with a little smile. It was funny to say even if the situation was so serious.

       "Something like that," he agreed. He was studying her face with rapt fascination, as if he saw something there he hadn't seen before.

       She lowered herself down and snuggled into his side, her chin at the juncture of his chest and arm. He wrapped the arm around her and pulled her close, tugging up the blankets to cover them because it was chilly in the room.

       "Thanks. I was cold. I should put on a nightgown," she said, putting her arm around him.

       "After I go to bed for the day," he replied.

       "I can't always sleep naked, Eric," she chided.

       "Why not?"

       "Because."

       "Because why?"

       "Ladies don't sleep in the nude," she huffed, butting up against her Southern sensibilities.

       "Who says?"

       "Says everyone."

       " _Everyone?"_  he repeated.

       "Miss Manners and my Gran," she clarified.

       "I think Ms. Manners obviously doesn't have a bed partner who keeps her satisfied, otherwise she would know how nice it is to cuddle with a lover in the nude. Besides, it dispenses with all the trouble of having to get your partner out of her bedclothes."

       "As if you ever had any trouble fucking me in my clothes," she teased.

       "Yes, but I love you naked. I love to see your beautiful expanse of skin, so soft and smooth and perfect. It pains me to see you hide it from view," he answered wistfully.

       "So I should go to Fangtasia naked?" she challenged.

       His eyes dilated and he showed some fang. "Not unless you want me to slaughter every vampire who looks sideways at you, and a few of those pathetic fangbangers as well."

       "Well..." She glanced over towards the side of the bed where his sword had fallen. "You've got the sword for it now."

       He laughed out loud and kissed the top of her head. "I love you. You never do what I expect you to."

       "Hey, I gotta keep you guessing so you don't get bored with me."

       "Never."

       He said it with complete conviction, and she had to believe it to be true. Once again she sunk into the bond and her love for this man who always knew what to say, and how to make her feel valued.

       "So what should I do about Hunter?" she questioned after a few moment of peaceful silence.

       "For now, nothing," he replied. "The boy is safe where he is, or at least I am assuming so. Anything you try to do now would draw attention to him while he is a helpless child so it is best to let him alone. The father knows of you and knows you are willing to help. If he is a good father, he will do what is best for his son, and not let his fear or pride get in the way."

       She thought about that and nodded, letting her fingers stroke his chest lightly. He started rumbling with contentment.

       "Okay. That's a good idea."

       "I am sure that once he is older you will have a more active part in his life, but by then you should have mastered your gifts well enough to be able to help him," he added.

       "I hope so."

       He rubbed her back, letting his hand slide down to her bottom again. She tensed, thinking he might give her another "love tap,' but he didn't. He merely rubbed his palm over the mounds of her backside and teased the back of her thigh. She twitched at the tickle, which seemed to amuse him.

       "I know you will. I should find you a teacher. Someone who can guide you through controlling your ability," he said, running his hand along the sensitive spot on her side.

       "Izzy said the same thing," she commented, grabbing the offending hand before it could reach her belly.

       "Izzy ought to know. Why don't you seek her out later today and see if she can recommend someone? I must admit to being a bit at a disadvantage because I do not know all that many telepaths," he suggested, his voice innocent even as his fingers wiggled their way free of her grasp.

       "I can do that," she answered, struggling to grab his hand again as he started poking lightly. He kept moving it too fast for her to snatch.

       "Do what?" He was still playing innocent, as if his hand was not under his control and was tickling her of its own volition.

       "Ask Izzy about a teacher."

       "That's a good idea."

       "What else do you think I ought to do?"

       "I'm not sure yet. We need to be wary of Victor. He is Felipe's eyes and ears in Louisiana, and in many ways he is more ruthless than the king," he replied nonchalantly.

       She jerked when he got her belly and slapped her hand on his wrist. He just grinned.

       "Is he more ruthless than you?" she asked through gritted teeth.

       "In many ways more so."

       She couldn't imagine anyone being as ruthless as her Viking when he got going.

       "Really?"

       "Yes. I only make threats I am willing to carry out. Victor will make threats and do things I will not." He stopped trying to tickle her and got serious. "We must always be aware of Victor."

       "Are you afraid of him?" she asked, matching his seriousness.

       "Yes. He is not someone I want for an enemy." He sighed. "Unfortunately, he already is my enemy."

       "Do you think so?"

       "He will betray me in an instant. We cannot trust him, Sookie, and we cannot ever turn our backs to him."

       She nodded gravely. "Okay. I won't."

       "If he ever contacts you directly, you must let me know immediately. He shouldn't after we get back because I intend to formally announce you as mine. That should put you off limits, but as we all know, not all of us respect boundaries."

       He gave her a little, sly smile, and she snorted.

       "You always respected them, but you had no qualms about pushing them," she said. "But you don't have to worry about Victor. The only way I'd let him touch me is if he could glamour me, and, if you can't glamour me, no one can."

       "That's good to hear. I gather you like him as much as I do."

       She gave him an angry glance. "He killed Sophie-Anne, and Cleo, and he was going to burn down Fangtasia and my house. He was going to kill you and Bill and me and Amelia, and Bob the cat without a second glance. No, I don't like him."

       Her ruthless, killing Viking who had probably done everything Victor had done and worse, laughed softly and kissed her. "Beautiful Sookie. I love you, and I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe."

       She sighed and tucked her head under his chin. "I know. I love you too, and I'll do the same, although I have no idea what I can do. Mere human, you know."

       "You can move about by day. You have no idea what an advantage that is," he said, nuzzling her hair.

       "You can move too, if you have to," she pointed out.

       "Not very effectively and only under extreme duress."

       "Still. If you had to."

       "If I had to, yes."

       She took a glance at the clock. Almost an hour had passed since she had awakened, but sunrise wasn't until after seven so they still had another hour or so before Eric had to go to his windowless room for the day.

       "I'm sorry. We were talking and you hadn't wanted to," she apologized.

       "It's okay. We were mostly talking about you."

       "What are we going to do?"

       "The only thing we  _can_  do, lover: make the best of every situation, try to anticipate what is going to happen, and stay one step ahead of the competition," he replied.

       "Sounds exhausting."

       "I'm used to it."

       "I'm not. My life was pretty simple and boring before I got dragged into all this vampire shit," she groused irritably.

       "But if you had not been "dragged into our shit" as you say, then you would never have met Bill. You would never have had a lover or come to Fangtasia or bonded with me. Do you truly wish none of that had happened?"

       What a loaded question. She lifted her head to look at him again, and he was giving her puppy dog eyes. She melted.

       "No. I don't. I may say I do sometimes, and half the time I might miss my normal, boring life, but I don't ever really wish I'd never met any of you. I wish Bill hadn't lied to me, and I wish Gran hadn't been killed, and I wish the Nevada vamps had stayed in the desert, but I don't ever wish that you weren't in my life," she answered honestly.

       "You have in the past. You've wanted me gone," he reminded.

       "You confused me, and scared me and infuriated me, but..."

       "But?" he prompted.

       "But you were always there for me. Which is more than I can say for Jason or Sam or even Bill. When I needed you, you were always there."

       His eyes softened with love, then he took her face in his hands and kissed her tenderly.

        _'Lovelovelovelove this woman,'_  she heard loud and clear, and it nearly brought her to tears.

       "I love you," she said, letting her lips join with his, letting their souls mingle in the bond.

       "We still have an hour before dawn," he murmured against her ear. "Shall we spend it occupying our mouths with other things?"

       She chuckled and let him roll them both over.

       The lovemaking was so sweet and tender it was like two beings merging into one. Oh, she and Eric could fuck like bandits, driving each other to new heights of pleasure, and that was very satisfying, but it was in the quiet joining that the true depth and strength of their bond came through. Nothing was more profound than feeling him moving inside her, her thighs gripping his hips as he pushed himself in as far as he would go. Their hands entwined, fingers lacing together in the throes of their passion, holding onto each other as if the other was the only reason they existed, and in their final moments, neither knew who was who as they climaxed together, complete and perfect.

       In the aftermath, after the tremors subsided and her breathing returned to normal, he left the bed briefly to retrieve one of her soft cotton nightgowns. He slipped it over her head, saying goodbye to her breasts with soft licks and kisses to her nipples before he covered them up, and then drew her down to lie with him, snuggled against him all sated and warm. She curled into him, her hand on his chest, her head under his chin, and floated in contented bliss just on the edge of sleep.

       She woke out of a light doze when he moved to get up at the coming of dawn. They shared a significant look, then she got out of bed with him and followed him down to the windowless room. She could tell sunrise was near because her vampire was getting sluggish, and she held up the covers on the full size bed so he could slide in. He looked so forlorn and unhappy all alone in the bed that she got in with him, lying on top of the thin blankets. There she waited, holding him, letting him nestle his face between her breasts, until she felt his body go slack and still.

       She didn't know if it was safe to stay with him in his daytime stupor. Such a thing has never really come up between her and Bill, other than he did not want her to join him in his hiding place during the day. She reluctantly left the bed, and her unconscious lover, kissing him tenderly before turning off the light on the bedside table, and returning to the loft and the empty king-size bed.

 

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       She woke again about eleven o'clock in the morning and made herself get out of bed. She was hungry and needed to get them packed for their departure that night, and she'd promised Eric that she would try to find Izzy to ask her about a telepathy teacher. She took a quick shower – showers weren't much fun during the daytime – and dressed in jeans and a sweater, then she took on the sad task of emptying out the closet and chest of drawers of her and Eric's things, and getting their bags ready to go. She zipped up the garment bag with a pang of regret. She'd ask Eric if they could stay if she could, but their lives called, and Felipe de Castro would start to get nervous if his annexed sheriff went AWOL for much longer. Maybe they could come back after the spring thaw.

       Once she had everything packed and ready to go, leaving out a fresh outfit for Eric to dress in when he got up, she put everything by the door, put on her parka, and headed for the lodge. It was another sunny day, although a few clouds dotted the blue sky. It was still cold, and there was still lots and lots of snow, but she found that the chill wasn't as bad and the wind didn't bite so sharply. Maybe some of Eric's love of snow and cold was rubbing off on her (God she hoped not!)

       It was impossible to say how happy she was, how light and free she felt, as she turned her face to the winter sun and breathed in the crisp air, heavy with the scent of the lake. She made it to the lodge, feeling an odd sense of exhilaration from the trek through the cold, and hopped up onto the deck with a spring in her step. The huge doors opened for her like she was Ali-baba, revealing the lodge in all its sparkling glory to her newly vampire-blood enhanced eyes, and she stared at the soaring great room and marveled at how she could feel the heat from the fire from twenty feet away. The smell of the burning wood was heavenly, and she took it in in deep breaths before practically dancing down the hall to the dining room.

       She noticed that the other guests she encountered were looking at her oddly and giving her looks that were hard to interpret, but she couldn't bring herself to care because she was so happy. Light on her feet, she breezed through the dining room doors and presented herself to Noria who was already waiting there for her.

       "Good morning, Noria," she nearly sang.

       "Good morning, Miss Sookie. How are you?" the hostess asked, grinning wide and bright.

       "I am wonderful. And you?"

       Noria's grin got even brighter. "I am very well."

       "That's great."

       "A table by the windows?"

       "Absolutely. Oh this place is so beautiful, and the food smells so good. Eric and I will definitely be coming back soon," she said, following the woman to "her" table, the one she'd sat at three mornings in a row. She noted that the ambient noise of conversations around her got a little quieter as she passed, but she was too happy to care if they were ogling the human.

       "We would be glad to have you. You have been an excellent guest," Noria replied, handing her the menu.

       "Thank you," she answered with a smile.

       "Enjoy your meal."

       "I'm sure I will."

       With a final smile, Noria left her there to peruse at the menu and look out at the lake. The sunlight sparkled like fireworks on the surface of the water.

       "Good morning, Miss Sookie," Toth said as she turned her face to see him. Her Eric-boosted hearing gave her advanced warning when he approached.

       "Good morning, Toth," she said as he poured her a cup of delicious-smelling coffee.

       "You are looking very well today," her waiter commented. He was beaming, his eyes very bright, and his hair tousled.

       "I am very well today. Are there any specials this morning?"

       "We can do pretty much anything you want, Miss Sookie. What would you like?"

       "Something high in iron and B vitamins."

       "How about a spinach and bacon omelet with iron-skillet home fries, whole grain toast and jam?" he suggested.

       "Sounds perfect."

       She handed him the menu and he grinned at her before whisking off to the kitchen. She passed the time drumming lightly on the table with her hands and humming a little tune as she watched someone take a ski-doo out onto the lake. She'd never done anything like that. She wondered if it was as fun as it looked.

_'Supposedly there is a Supe Sandals. Maybe Eric and I could go there sometime. I wonder if its in Jamaica or Mexico or someplace like that.'_

       She imagined going somewhere warm and tropical with white sand beaches and a little cabana. She thought about what it would be like to take a moonlight swim with her Viking, then imagined that he'd probably want to go skinny dipping. She pictured Eric standing naked in the moonlight, the surf lapping at his long legs. She tapped her foot. What time was it? Her watch read twelve oh three. Five hours before she could see her Viking again. What was she going to do with herself to pass the time?

        _'I'm supposed to talk to Izzy,'_  she reminded herself, and cast out a little mental query.

        _'!!? You?'_  came the reply when she brushed against Izzy's mind.

        _'Heya I need to talk to you.'_

_'I need to talk to you too. Stay where you are.'_

_'Okay. I'm just sitting here waiting for my breakfast to arrive.'_

_'I'll be there shortly.'_

_'Okay.'_

       Toth brought her breakfast and refilled her coffee mug, and she gave him a thankful smile before she dug into the food voraciously. The smell of the food triggered a powerful hunger, and she ate it all almost as soon as it hit the table. She surprised even herself with how fast it went down.

_'Wow. Guess I was hungry.'_

       "Morning, Merry Sunshine," Izzy said.

       She jumped nearly out of her skin and yanked her head to see Izzy sitting across the table from her, arms crossed and her body leaning against the chair. She'd obviously just Jumped into the dining room, but Sookie was too happy to be knocked off her high by a parlor trick.

       "Good morning," she greeted enthusiastically.

       "Wow, Girlfriend, you are just  ** _glowing_**. I take it things went well last night."

       She smiled with the memory. "Oh yes."

       "Yeah, you're looking much better. The bond is stronger than ever."

       "Yes, it is," she agreed.

       "Uh-huh. So what do you want to talk to me about?" Izzy asked.

       "What did  _you_  want to talk to  _me_  about?"

       "You first."

       "Eric wants me to find a teacher. Someone who can help me use my gift."

       Izzy blinked at her. "I... see," she answered.

       "Coffee, Miss Izzy?" Toth asked brightly, looking a bit confused.

       "Hey Toth. Yes, please. Bring a carafe of the Ertacxian Breakfast Blend," Izzy replied.

       "Sure thing, Miss Izzy. I'll be back with the coffee right away."

       "Sounds great."

       "Ertacxian Breakfast Blend?" she asked the woman.

       "It's a demon grown coffee blend; it has three times the amount of caffeine in it than regular coffee."

       "Wow."

       "Best part about it is it's not bitter. Real smooth going down."

       She nodded. "So about the teacher. Do you know anyone who might be willing to teach a barmaid from Louisiana how to handle this handicap?"

       Izzy snorted. "Yeah. Me."

       She blinked. "You?"

       "Yeah, and we're gonna start right away, coz you really need to do something about your gift. You broadcast really,  ** _really_**  loud."

       "I broadcast?..." she repeated, confused. Izzy raised an eyebrow, and she suddenly understood. "Oh.  ** _Oh!_** "

       Izzy smiled wryly. "Oh, oh is right. I spent most of last night blocking you. Mia had to put up a Level 5 shield around our cabin just so we could get some sleep. And if you notice that the guests here are being extra special nice to you? It's 'cause you're the one responsible for the big smiles on  _their_  faces."

       Sookie gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, about to die with mortification. Izzy just shrugged.

       "I can see why you would. Vampires are pretty much pure sex to begin with. Vampires and their blood-bondeds? Well... let's just say that the two of you single-handedly recharged Eros last night. That's why today, Girlfriend, you're going to Telepath School. First Lesson: Blocking 101, also known as _How Not to Incite an Orgy_."

       "Oh, no." Suddenly all the happy smiles and expressions everyone had been giving her took on a whole new meaning, and she blushed furiously. "Oh my God."

       "Don't feel too bad. Making everyone want to have sex isn't a bad thing."

       "Oooohhh, no..." She hid her face in her hands, wondering of she could crawl under a rock somewhere and disappear.

       "Trust me, hon. No one is mad at you. But it would be better if you could control it. Some of the demons here break things when they get... uhh... too _frisky_  if you know what I mean."

       Toth brought the coffee. Sookie ventured a peek up at him, and he waggled his eyebrows at her. She cringed and hid her face again. She heard Toth chuckle before he zipped off.

       "Oh Sweet Jesus, Shepherd of Judea, deliver me from this humiliation," she begged.

       "Careful. Prayers like that hold weight here. Be careful what you wish for," Izzy warned.

       She groaned.

       "But the upside to all of this is I can tell you that your blood bond is definitely all healed up this morning. No doubt tall, blonde and dead went to sleep with a smile on his face," Izzy commented cheerfully.

       "Please stop. And just to think, last night I was telling him how much I wanted to stay here. Now I'll be too embarrassed to ever come back."

       "Why?"

       She stared at Izzy. " _Why?_  You just told me we incited an orgy. You think they're gonna invite us back after that?"

       "Hon, Elena's  ** _Greek_**. They pretty much invented the orgy. Once Dionysius and Bacchus got a hold of the rites, they matured it to its perfection. Believe me, they will welcome you and Eric back with open arms."

       "I don't know how I'll ever be able to look her in the eyes again," she bemoaned, reaching for her coffee.

       "Don't worry about that. Once Loverboy finds out about it, he'll be strutting enough for both you."

       She groaned again, but Izzy just snickered. "Drink your coffee and finish your toast. I only have five hours to give you the basics. We need to get started."

       She gave the woman a stricken look, but obeyed.

       Four and a half hours later, Sookie staggered back into the cabin she shared with Eric. All of the lightness and joy she had been feeling had been drummed out of her by a vicious task master of a woman who had browbeat her for four hours until she thought her head was going to explode. The upside was she was now in almost complete control over her telepathy, and it was unlikely she and Eric would be inciting any more orgies, much to the disappointment of the Isle Elena guests. (She just knew she'd never live that down. Her and Eric's names were forever going to be associated with the night the resort degenerated into a bacchanal, and she doubted that anyone who remembered them would be able to look them in the eye without sniggering.)

       Izzy had taken her to the cabin she shared with Maria and Vincent. Both mother and son were there, and both proved instrumental in her instruction because both were accomplished telepaths in their own right. Things started out a little rocky at first, but then Izzy realized that Sookie was part fey, and then everything made sense to her. Sookie felt badly for not mentioning Niall sooner.

       Between the three of them, they bombarded her with thoughts and images, challenging her shields and forcing her to defend her mind. They also showed her how to keep her own thoughts from leaking out, and how to link her barrier to a pneumonic trigger that took no effort to cast or maintain. By the time they were finished with her, she was able to block, shield, cast and filter. It was all basic first level stuff, and she'd already been doing most of it to some extent, but now she had some formal training in technique and some knowledge of the finer points. It wasn't that much, but it was all they could fit in a four hour lesson.

       She probably would have kept going on to some higher level techniques, but Izzy had called a halt to the lesson because four hours was enough for an intense cram session like the one she was putting Sookie through, and also because the sun was going down and soon Eric would be active in the bond. Once Eric was awake, he'd be a distraction Izzy hadn't wanted to deal with, but she did tell Sookie that Eric needed to know she could read his thoughts, and also reinforced her belief that sooner or later her vampire was going to be able to read her mind too. She wasn't sure how she felt about that.

       She knew how she felt right now: worn out and mentally exhausted. Izzy had given her some exercises to use in practice and had promised to teach her more the next time they saw each other, which would be when Maria came to perform at Fangtasia sometime in the spring. In the meantime, she was supposed to work on her skills, and try to identify places where she felt she needed extra help. She fully intended to do as her teacher asked, but after the afternoon she'd had all she was hearing was "tilt."

       She tossed her parka on top of their gathered luggage and kicked off her boots, stumbling over to the plain door at the back of the dining room. She'd been planning on just looking in on him to see if he showed signs of waking, but that was just an excuse to go into the room because she could tell perfectly well that he was still asleep just by probing the bond. When she was honest with herself, she admitted that all she really wanted was to see him because she'd had a grueling afternoon, and her bonded would make her feel all better.

       She lit a candle for light and opened the door quietly. He was there in the dark room, sprawled in the same position that she'd left him in on the bed. His hair was a cascade of gold spilling across the pillow, and his pale skin glowed in the darkness. Lax in sleep, he looked peaceful and sweet, and she couldn't resist him. She placed the candle down on the bedside table and crawled into bed with him, putting one arm around him and sighing as all the tension left her body at the moment their bodies touched.

       She took a moment to blow out the candle before laying her head alongside his on the pillow and allowing herself to sink into oblivion.

 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

_Chapter Eighteen_

       It was pitch black dark, she was in a confined space, and there was a vampire clutching her close. For one horrible moment, all she could think was that she was stuck in the truck of a car with a severely wounded, starving vampire, and she went into a full-blown panic. She screamed, pummeling her attacker, kicking and doing everything she could to get away. He was gonna rape her. He was gonna kill her. There was no way out. She couldn't  ** _breathe_**...

       "Sookie! Sookie!"  ** _'SOOKIE!!'_**

       Eric. Eric's voice. Eric's mind. Eric was there. Eric would save her.

       "Eric!"  _'ERIC!'_

       She came awake with a cry, her hands grabbing and clawing at the arms around her.

       "Sookie. Sookie, it's me. My lover, it's me," Eric said hoarsely, his voice frightened.

       She drew in huge gulps of air, shaking violently all over, but coming out of her terror bit by bit. Eric still had her, and she changed her defensive grip to one of desperation as she clutched the same arms she'd just been trying to gouge. Sensing that she was getting a hold of herself, Eric pulled her closer, his lips against her hair.

       "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you," he apologized.

       "Eric? What's going on? Where are we?"

       She felt him move and a lamp came on, lighting up the windowless room. She and Eric were on the bed, tangled up in the blankets. Her sweater had been pushed up and her bra pulled down to expose her breasts, and her jeans had been unbuttoned. The bottom of her gold necklace peeked out from where the sweater had been shoved up. It took a few moments, but she remembered what had happened that afternoon and recalled getting into bed with him while he was still in his daytime sleep. Obviously, her Viking had awakened frisky, and he'd been enjoying her assets when she'd had the flashback of being trapped in the trunk with Bill.

       "Oh," she gasped. "Oh."

       "Forgive me. I woke and you were there beside me all soft and luscious..."

       She patted him. "No. It's okay. It's alright," she comforted.

       "It isn't. You flashed back to being trapped in that damn trunk on the night Bill raped you," he growled.

       She felt his anger in the bond; his blip was scarlet and black.

       "Yes, but I'm okay now."

       She was. She was relaxing, letting herself lay back down on the bed. Eric still had his arms around her, his face worried and wary. She could also hear his whirring thoughts running circles in his head as he tried to figure out how to prevent what had just happened from happening again. He was coming in clearer now. Izzy had warned her that she might start being able to hear Eric and other Supes more clearly from now on. She didn't want to think of the consequences of that.

       "And here I hoped to make you happy by being here when you woke up, and all I did was kick you in the groin," she joked weakly, trying to ease his concern with a smile.

       "You missed my groin, but you did get my shins, and you did make me very happy. I woke up to find my beautiful lover beside me in bed, all warm and asleep next to me. I couldn't resist you."

       She giggled, remembering something Arlene had said about guys wanting sex in the morning. They'd wake up, fully rested, to find an available woman in bed with them, possibly already undressed, and be raring to go before they even had their morning pee. Apparently, vampires were the same way... without the pee part.

       "What's so funny?" he asked, his voice teasing.

       "Vampires want sex in the morning... errr... evening."

       He gave her a sexy leer. "Vampires want sex anytime."

       She smiled back. "True."

       She was completely calm now, all her earlier terror faded, although the darkness of the memory remained. She reached up and placed Eric's hand on her partially bared breast.

       "You can keep going if you want," she offered.

       He didn't look convinced. "Are you sure?"

       She nodded and ran her finger down his abdomen for added effect. His eyes darkened and his fangs came down. They must have snapped up when she'd had her panic attack.

       "I'm sure. I'm sorry I freaked out on you."

       He kissed her sweetly before bending his head to her nipples. "It just goes to show that I need to replace bad memories with good ones."

       "I'm not... ah! Going to... ungh... let you lock me in a car trunk, just so you can... ohh... do me in it so I forget what happened with Bill," she argued, gasping as he laved and nibbled at her soft flesh.

       "If you are still able to speak of Bill, I am obviously doing something wrong," he commented, taking her nipple into his mouth.

       She arched her back as he bit down, threading her fingers into his hair, and moaned when he wormed his finger into her jeans and panties. She writhed and panted as he fed and fingered her, shuddering as he brought her to climax.

       "Eric..." she sighed, petting his head lovingly.

       "Shhh, my lover. Look at me," he commanded softly as his hand slid off her jeans and underwear.

       She stared into his blue eyes as she hitched one leg over his hips and groaned as he entered her. She lasted a few short thrusts before she came again, pulling Eric over the edge with her. He grunted and closed his eyes as he climaxed inside her, then lowered himself down to lie atop her until the aftershocks wore off.

       "Mmmm... what a wonderful way to wake up. I hope you will favor me so sweetly when we are back home," he whispered, nuzzling her ear.

       "Sure," she panted, still catching her breath.

       He chuckled and lifted himself off of her, disengaging as he did so, and she felt the loss of him. He came to rest beside her, facing her, their heads on the same pillow. His thoughts were full of love and happiness, and she smiled at him, soft and wonderingly. This Viking was hers. Sweet, dear, deadly man. He could kill her with the flick of his pinky finger, yet she could humble him with a word.

       She reached up, splaying out her fingers, and he obligingly entwined his hand into hers.

       "I could stay like this forever, but I know we can't," she said softly. "What time do we have to leave?"

       "Our flight leaves at ten, but we need to be out of this cabin by seven."

       She nodded, feeling sad and apprehensive at going back to Louisiana. He felt her anxiety because he shifted closer and kissed her forehead.

       "It will all be alright," he promised.

       She nodded, biting her lip a little. "I got us all packed. I left out an outfit for you to put on."

       He raised an eyebrow. "The leather pants?" he asked hopefully.

       "No. I told you, I'm not letting you out in public with them on."

       "Heh," he snickered and got up. She followed suit and reached for her jeans and underwear, yanking them on.

       "May I make a request of you?" her Viking asked, picking up the set of clothing she had left out for him: undies, socks, jeans and a sweater.

       "What would you like?" she replied warily. He usually was not so polite.

       "Will you wear skirts and dresses most of the time? For me?"

       She smirked, seeing his reasoning in her mind as the thought flashed, hot and stirring, across their new connection. "Easier access?"

       "Yes."

       Well, at least he was honest, and the thought of dressing in clothes that made it easier for her Viking to pillage her was a bit of a turn on. "If it's not real cold, I will, but my uniform at Merlotte's is pants and shorts, you know."

       "I know. Thank you."

       She sidled up to him and went up on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Hey, it's for my pleasure too, right?"

       "Oh yes," he agreed, caressing her bottom.

       She chuckled and squeezed his ass in response. He bared his fangs and leaned into her grip.

       "The little dress with the flowers that you wore the very first time I saw you at Fangtasia. I have fantasies of taking you in it. I would bring you to my office, bend you over my desk..." he crooned in a voice that was pure lust.

       She shivered and put a hand on his chest. "Stop. Stop it. It should be physically impossible for me to want you this much," she complained, her knees practically buckling with desire.

       "Am I arousing you? Do I make you  _hungry_  for me?" He said "hungry" like a man dying of want. She moaned.

       "Eric..."

       "You have had my blood, my lover. You will feel all that I feel, and want as much as I do. Which means, you will want all the time. We will fuck and fuck and fuck, and then... we will fuck some more."

       His lips were at her throat. She was trembling with desire.

       "I think we will join The Mile High Club tonight. Oh yes, indeed, we will," he promised. "But for now... we must check out, get our suppers, and then I will need your help with something I want to do before we leave here."

       She groaned in protest, but allowed him to step away, then she sat on the bed and pouted while he covered his perfect body with clothes.

       "Where did you put my clothes and sword from last night?" he questioned.

       "The sword is in its sheath propped up by the front door. Your clothes, cape, and brooch are in your bag with your boots and belt."

       He nodded that he understood and pulled his sweater over his head.

       "The only things I didn't pack were the pod of O-neg in the fridge and the fairy blood one in the freezer. I didn't know what to do with them."

       "We'll take them with us to the lodge and ask them to put them in a preservation pack. They'll keep at least for the flight home. After that..." He shrugged.

       "It seems like such a waste..."

       "I know, but we did the right thing. It has been a very long time since I have allowed myself pure fairy blood ñ pod or not, but I remember my hunger and my need. We would have kept the whole island awake with our cries of passion."

       She frowned. "We already did."

       "Hmm? What do you mean?"

       "Well, Izzy told me... She... ah... told me that we... weincitedanorgylastnightcozIbroadcastreallyloud."

       He blinked for a moment, looking utterly confused and she saw him moving his lips. "Izzy told you that... Did I hear you say orgy?"

       She blushed furiously. "Yeah."

       "We incited an orgy."

       "That's what Izzy told me. And everyone seemed really, really happy to see me when I went down to the lodge this afternoon."

       Eric grinned and stood tall, a vision of male sexual prowess and dominance. Her inner she-wolf begged for her to kneel on all fours and let him mount her. She squashed the need as quickly as she could, but his grin just got wider.

       "Now that would have been something to see," he said.

       She huffed. "We've been to an orgy together, remember?"

       "Oh I remember, my lover. I remember that you trusted me enough to keep you safe, and wouldn't let me have any fun, and wouldn't yield to me no matter what I did, and that the evening ended when the maenad arrived and started slaughtering everyone. Not a very fun time for either of us."

       She crossed her arms. "No. But last night wouldn't have been any different. I wouldn't have had sex with anyone but you, so what would have been the point of going to an orgy?"

       "So others could see your magnificence and envy me."

       "Eric. Sex is private. You don't have sex in front of witnesses just to make others jealous," she scolded. At least he hadn't said something chauvinistic like "so everyone would know you are mine" or hinted that he would do something similar to what the Weres did during the ascension of a new Packmaster.

       "Can we have sex in front of witnesses if it's to show them how two blood-bondeds do it?"

       She gritted her teeth. If she hadn't known he was teasing her through the bond, she would have kneed him in the groin.

       "No."

       "You have no sense of adventure," he complained.

       "That's me. Stick-in-the-Mud Sookie."

       "I'd like to have sex in the mud with you," he said with a glint in his eyes.

       That image came through loud and clear. Was it considered reading someone's mind when they practically shoved the thoughts into her head?

       "I've done that. You get mud everywhere."

       His eyebrows went up to his hair. "Really? When did you have mud sex?"

       She opened her mouth to answer, then shut it with a sharp click. "None of your business. All you need to know is I did it, I didn't like it too much, and I won't do it again."

       "Never?" He looked so disappointed.

       She rolled her eyes. "Highly unlikely."

       "But with a remote chance if the mood strikes us?"

       "Yeah," she reluctantly agreed.

       He beamed at her. "Wonderful."

       She shook her head. "Let's go get dinner."

       He stepped forward and kissed her; not a tongue-tickling, toe-tingling kiss, but an "I love you and think you're wonderful" kiss. She sighed and leaned into him, feeling like a princess who's finally realized that the frog really  ** _is_**  a prince. He put his arm around her and guided her from the room, his hand firm but gentle at the small of her back. She left him briefly to collect the black lacquered steamer that held the pod of O-neg and grabbed the fey blood pod from the freezer, putting it in the steamer with the other pod, and rejoined her Viking in the living room. They paused at the front door to put on coats and boots, and then Eric opened his bag and pulled out a carved wooden box that looked very old.

       "Please keep this safe for me, Dear One," he said as he reverently tucked the box into the large front pocket of her parka.

       "Sure. What is it?"

       "An offering," he replied cryptically, then put her hat on for her and gave her a final smile before they left the cabin.

       "Do we need to do anything with our luggage?" she asked as they walked arm-in-arm down to the lodge. It wasn't as cold, and she felt the same thrill of excitement when she breathed in the chilled air.

       "No. Bell Services will collect our things and load them for us, but I do wish to have a word with them. I don't want my sword or the black garment bag to go into the cargo hold," he answered.

       "Okay."

       They headed for the concierge upon entering the lodge, and she waited patiently while Eric gave instructions for the handling of their bags. She held back and remained silent, allowing him his position of authority, and smiled at him when he turned to her and offered his arm. They shared a look of mutual affection and pleasure, then walked down the corridor to the dining room. She noticed that he matched his stride to hers, shortening his step to keep from overreaching her feet. It was a tiny, insignificant thing, but it meant so much because she didn't have to hustle to keep up with him.

       Noria was standing at the hostess podium when they passed through the dining room doors, and she gave them a million-watt smile. Eric saw her joy and stood a little straighter.

        _'Uh-oh,'_  she thought, recalling what Izzy had said about Eric strutting after he heard they'd started an orgy.

       "Good evening, Mr. Northman. Miss Sookie," Noria greeted.

       "Good evening. Table for two by the fire, please," her Viking stated, his head up, his eyes scanning the room.

       The dining room was packed, and all eyes were now turning their way. She suddenly wanted to be anywhere but where they were, and she hid behind Eric's shoulder.

       "Right away, sir," Noria replied, grabbing menus and heading off into the room without bothering to see if they were following.

       Eric fell into step behind the blue-skinned woman, but she kept close, trying to stay in her Viking's shadow as the conversations around them got very hushed. She blushed and tucked her head close to his arm.

       "Why do you hide your face?" he asked. "Are you ashamed of me?"

       "No," she whispered back.

       "Are you ashamed of what we did to each other?"

       "No."

       "Then why?"

       "Eric, we started an orgy," she hissed.

       She heard him chuckle. "Yes, we did, and you should be proud."

       "What?" she squeaked.

       He stopped in the middle of the dining room and surveyed the crowd, then he took her arm and pulled her out from behind him. The room fell unusually quiet.

       "Stand tall, my lover. You should be proud to be my mate," he told her, stretching to his full height. Oh, he was in full display all right; tall, strong Viking. This couldn't be good.

       "Did she bring you pleasure?" her Viking asked the dining room patrons.

       There was a murmur of assent, and she blushed even more furiously, trying to hide behind him again. She caught a glimpse of Izzy and her family seated close to the windows. Izzy was shaking her head.

        _'No, don't do that. If you try to hide...'_  Izzy warned.

       She gasped as Eric lifted her up and stood her on an empty table.

_'... he'll just do that.'_

       "Is she not beautiful?" Eric asked loudly. "Is she not magnificent?"

       The guests gave a cheer of agreement, but she was mortified standing there on display. At the moment, she really didn't care for the vampires' habit of showing off what they had. Bill had been the same way. Pretty much every vampire she'd ever met had possessed the annoying habit of wanting the world to know how much better they had it than their peers. They drank up jealousy like blood. The problem was she wasn't an expensive car or a fancy necklace, and if Eric thought he was winning any favors from her by showing her off like a shiny new toy, he was in for a big surprise.

_'Oh god. I'm gonna kill him. I am **so**_ _gonna kill him.'_

        _'Stand tall. Look proud. He's honoring you. I know you just want to crawl into a hole and die, but you can do that later,'_ came Izzy's gentle rebuke.

       She was clenching her fists to her sides when he hopped up next to her, his arm around her waist possessively.

       "All those who owe me fealty will honor her," he announced with authority.

       She was shaking with rage, pasting on a smile as big as she could muster, then Eric turned to face her and tipped up her chin, smiling down at her.

       " ** _I_**  will honor her... every night for the rest of our lives," he pledged.

       His blue eyes were clear and bright, and she felt his love and commitment echoing in the bond. It flooded into her and drowned out the anger, then he kissed her in front of the entire crowd. She shuddered, going weak in the knees, and she had to grab his forearms to keep from falling. He broke the kiss, his face ecstatic, and lifted her up easily, spinning her the way that he did at the ball in Rhodes, her hair flying, as he took them up, up, up.

       They hung in the air, close to the massive logs that supported the roof, and he kissed her again before floating them back down and settling her gently on her feet. The crowd cheered again, and she couldn't help but smile at him, at his joy, at the wonder that was him, the dichotomy that a being who could be so ruthless and cruel could be a closet romantic at heart.

       "I promise I will bring her back!" her bonded assured them, earning them more hoots and whistles.

       Something that looked like white confetti burst in a huge cloud all around them, and she thought at first that they were flower petals, but then they morphed into fireflies that blinked all around them until they faded out. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but he kissed them away and took her gently by the waist again, guiding her past the smiling onlookers to the table where Noria was waiting.

       "I will get you for that," she promised, but there was no heat in it. She was too full of happiness to be angry.

       He held out her chair for her like true gentleman, and pushed it in when she sat down.

       "But of course you will. I relish finding out how you will punish me, my lover. I am sure I will be begging for mercy in no time," he whispered huskily in her ear.

       She gulped and stamped down the rush of lust, imagining all the scenarios where she could have him writhing and panting and... No. No. That was no good for her sanity right now.

       He chuckled and took a second to nip her earlobe before taking his seat across from her just as Toth appeared to take their drink orders. Eric skipped to the chase and ordered two pods of AB-neg and a pod of O-neg. She ordered a gin and tonic.

       "Also," Eric began, indicating the steamer on the table. "We have two pods left over that I did not use. I would like to take them home with me. Is there a way of preserving them for an extended period of time?"

       Toth looked at the steamer and nodded. "Yes, Sir, we can freeze-dry the pods and they will keep for several months. All you would need to do is add a bit of water and they should re-hydrate almost to the potency they were when they were preserved."

       Sookie saw Eric's eyes light up and she knew she was in trouble.

       "Excellent! Would you please freeze-dry these two and add an additional two fae blood pods to be dried as well?"

       Toth nodded. "Of course, Sir. I'll take these back and have the kitchen work on your order. They'll be ready by the time you leave tonight."

       "Thank you."

       Toth turned to her, his eyes still dancing, and she blushed. "Would you like to hear about tonight's specials, Miss Sookie?"

       She waved a hand. "Sure."

       "Tonight we have eggplant parmesan for our vegetarian selection, Chilean Sea Bass for our fish, Herb crusted chicken breast served with couscous and roasted asparagus, and slow-roasted prime rib of beef with porcini mushrooms and a brandy demi-glaze."

       "I'll have the prime rib," she said without hesitation.

       "8 ounce, 10 ounce or 12 ounce cut?"

       "Better give me the 10 ounce."

       "Excellent choice. How would you like that prepared?"

       "Medium-rare. I'd also like a spinach salad as well."

       Toth nodded. "Of course. Anything else?"

       "Nope, I think that's it," she replied, handing Toth her menu.

       Toth turned to Eric and took his menu, then he gave them both a final nod and whisked away. She looked at Eric to see him smiling secretly at her.

       "What?" she asked, feeling her lips tugging up at corners.

       "You ordered meat and spinach," he pointed-out.

       She shrugged. "Yeah, well, I need the protein and iron. I should pick up some vitamins when we get back home."

       "While I do appreciate the sentiment, I don't have any intention of feeding from you enough to weaken you."

       "Oh. Well, Bill..."

       "I am not Bill. My... nutritional requirements are not as extensive as a much younger vampire," he interrupted gently.

       "A sip here, a sip there?" she commented.

       "Something like that."

       The cat barmaid brought Sookie her drink, giving her the glass with an affectionate rub against her hand and a low purr. Sookie jolted and stared at the girl's flicking tail as she bounced away.

       "Hmm. I think you must have made that one particularly happy last night," her Viking observed.

       "Great," she answered sarcastically, taking a swig of her drink. ' _Hmm, top shelf stuff,'_  she noted. ' _Only the best for the orgy lady.'_  "I'm never going to live that down."

       He sat back in his chair, regarding her with a sexy, satisfied look on his face. "Why would you want to? You are beautiful. You brought many of those who are here a great deal of pleasure. You should be proud."

       "Proud that our private sex life spilled over and triggered a bacchanalia?  Exactly how am I supposed to be proud of that?" she retorted, proud of her use of the "big word."

       Eric gave her an exasperated look. "Have you not been paying attention to anything I've said the last four days? Isle Elena is weaved with comfort magic. The guests here become who they are and get what they need. If fostering an orgy had been detrimental, then the magic of the island would have squelched it. Instead it allowed our energies to multiply and spread to the others here. What does that tell you?"

       "That orgies are good for morale?" she offered weakly.

       He shook his head. "That sex is healing, and sexual energy is powerful."

       "Eric, sex is only healing when two people love each other," she countered. "Sex without feeling is just... empty. Like the people at the party we went to – having sex with people they didn't even like just because it was sex. I didn't find any pleasure in that. It's nothing like what happens between you and me. Sex with you, it's..."

       She stopped, blushing because they were in public and such things were only spoken in private. She was becoming as brazen as her Viking, and she wasn't sure she liked that. She was mulling over her own lack of manners and decorum, when Eric took her hand and kissed her palm.

       "Sex with you is a religious experience," he murmured, and her vamp-blood enhanced hearing picked it right up. "When we join... I am made whole, and if we, in our passion, made only one other person on this island feel the way we feel then everything was worth it."

       She huffed, pulling her hand from his grasp, but he looked wounded so she felt a twinge of guilt.

       "What did I do?"

       "How come every time I want to be mad at you, you say something sweet and wonderful, and I forget why I was angry?" she complained.

       He grinned. "It's a gift."

       She smiled and peered at him through her eyelashes as she took another sip from her drink.

       "I'm not used to it, all right?" she finally said.

       "Not used to what?"

       "Being valued. Mattering to someone..."

       She felt his regret and sadness through the bond and knew she'd struck a chord.

       "That is partially my fault, I know. I didn't remember our time together, and when you told me, I reacted by ignoring you and... what did you say to me? Sent messages to you through my flunkies. Pam loved that by the way. She said she'd never been called a flunky before. What  ** _is_**  a flunky actually?"

       She shrugged. "A flunky is like a... oh I dunno... a patsy, a lackey, a yes-man..."

       "An ass kissing brown-noser?" he offered.

       She cast him a guilty glance. "Something like that."

       He roared with laughter, his voice reaching up to the ceiling. "Oh! Oh, wonderful. Pam is an ass kissing brown-noser. I love it."

       "Don't you dare tell her that," she hissed, giving him a glare, but it just seemed to amuse him more.

       He settled, still smiling, and he flashed Toth a big toothy grin when the waiter brought their food. He thanked the silver-haired demon, and she gave Toth a nod and a smile as well. Toth grinned as he took the cover off her entrée, revealing possibly the most delicious-looking steak she'd ever seen, and whisked off jauntily. She shook her head, oddly glad that she'd made the waiter who had served her so well and so graciously happy.

       She and Eric didn't speak as they both dug into their meals. She kept her eyes down so she wouldn't see him squeezing out his blood pods, opting instead to concentrate on her steak. The meat was so tender she could cut it with her fork, and the first bite disintegrated on her tongue like butter.

       "Mmmmm," she moaned. "Oh, this steak is perfect." She took another bite and moaned again.

       "Careful. I might get jealous of a dead cow for making you moan so alluringly," her Viking commented with a leer.

       She snorted and kept eating, but she did tone down the sound effects, knowing he'd feel her pleasure through the bond anyway. Seeing his dilated eyes and slightly pointed teeth, she knew that she was having an effect on him, and it made her thrill a little.

       "It wasn't that I didn't value you, you know," he said suddenly, out of the blue. "I did, but I was... confused and... frustrated, and you weren't helping. You rebuffed me. You never even gave me a chance to court you after Hallow's curse was broken. You kept trying to make us go back to what we were before, but we couldn't because neither of us were those people anymore. Even I knew that. I knew you were hiding things from me. I knew you were just as confused as I was, but instead of reaching out to me, you turned inward." He sighed. "What was I to do?"

       "But you had the inside edge," she countered. "You knew how I was feeling."

       He nodded, taking a drink. "Resentment, fear, longing..." he replied. "Where was the affection, Sookie? You never let yourself feel it. Whenever we spoke, I was all but run over with your freight train of emotions. It was very... disconcerting. That's why I stopped calling you and had Pam act as go-between. You were making an already difficult situation much worse."

       She paused in her eating and looked at her fork. "I'm sorry. Truth is... on some level... I wanted the... I wanted my Eric back."

       "I have always been your Eric."

       She scoffed. "No, you haven't. You've been  ** _your_**  Eric, not mine, but that's okay. I like your Eric. He's complicated, but we get along."

       "Sookie..."

       "It's stupid, I know, but I wanted the man who appreciated me. In a world that had so often shown that it could do very well without me, it was nice to have someone who made me feel special; who treated me as if what I wanted and needed was important."

       "I am sorry if I ever made you feel as if what you wanted wasn't important," he said with absolute sincerity.

       "It's okay. I don't think you'll do that anymore."

       "No," he agreed.

       She returned to her food, taking a few more bites, acutely aware that he was watching her. The steak had come with a side of roasted vegetables that were very good.

       "But you also did not make it easy to show you that you were important," he finally stated. "You keep telling me I'm not allowed to lavish gifts upon you. You make it very hard for me to show my appreciation."

       "That's just like Niall always wanting to do things for me when all I want is for him to take me fishing. Eric, the most precious thing you can give me is your time. All the fancy gifts in the world won't mean anything if I never see you," she complained, setting her fork down and looking at him.

       "Oh, but you will see me, my lover. You will see all of me very often," he smoothed with a sexy smile.

       She blushed. "And that's... that's great. I love the sex when we're together, but..."

       "But?" he prompted with a raised eyebrow.

       "But... But I want to hear your laughter in my house and know you're there because you want to be. I want to come home from a bad day and be able to tell you all about it, and believe that you really care about my feelings. I want to curl on the couch with you, wrapped in my ugly quilt, and watch Buffy. I want to be a romantic sap and call you Honey, and Baby, and Sweetheart, and I want you to call me those things too."

       "I draw the line at Snookums," he interrupted, knocking her off her train of thought.

       She huffed, irritated, and went back to eating.

       "Darling? My most beautiful princess?" he asked with a plaintive lilt.

       She flicked him a perturbed glance, but didn't answer.

       "My bonded, my mate, my life, my all," he continued, reaching across the table to take her hand. She looked up at him and got lost in his blue eyes. "I promise you. I will keep my vows. I will honor you every night of my life. I will share everything I have with you, and I will never, ever, let you feel unappreciated or unimportant ever again."

       She gulped, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes, but then he gave her a wicked smile and kissed her hand.

       "How was that, my scrumptious éclair?"

       She snorted and yanked her hand away, rolling her eyes. He blinked at her all innocent when she knew he was anything but.

       "It was fine."

       "I love you," he said seriously, making her stop eating again.

       "I love you too," she replied.

       "Then that is all that matters, my lover. The rest..." He waved a hand. "is just details."

       She smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right, but if there was anyone who ever made me feel valued, it was you. When Bill was throwing money at the Bellefleurs and buying women's clothing stores, you were buying me the driveway I really needed."

       He took a drink from his glass, the blood still steaming. "It was a simple thing."

       "It wasn't to me. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me."

       "Bill was a fool to not see to your needs, but his lack of attentiveness has resulted in my gain, so it matters not to me."

       "Are we going to tell him?"

       "Tell him what?"

       "About you and me," she said impatiently. She knew he was just playing dumb.

       "I have already told you of my intention to make a formal announcement," he reminded.

        _"Before_  you claim me as your property?" she pressed.

       He set his glass down. "Why should I? I don't need his permission to be with you. He lied to you. He used you. He was unfaithful..."

       "I have to live next door to him. We're kind of friends. I think we... I think ** _I_**  owe it to him to tell him about us before you tell everyone else."

       "Why?" he asked.

       He was thinking that he could just order Bill to move, but that he wouldn't because he knew she wouldn't like it, and a secret part of him would also enjoy flaunting her in front of her old lover. She tried not to think about his plans to make her scream his name just so Bill would hear.

       "Because no matter how crappy he treated me, I still know my manners, and he deserves to hear the news from me directly instead of reading it in the monthly Area Five newsletter," she answered sarcastically.

       "A newsletter! What a brilliant idea, my lover. I will see about putting that into effect as soon as we get back. Do you think it should be printed or should we just put it on-line?" he asked, grinning.

       She rolled her eyes. "No. You aren't distracting me. I think we should tell Bill when we get back."

       "Tonight?"

       She hedged. "Maybe not tonight, but soon."

       "As you wish. I will inform him myself of our renewed relationship."

       "No, we should do it together. Knowing you, you'll bring a pair of my underwear with you and dangle it in front of his nose while you tell him "Sookie's mine," then you'll threaten him with painful death if he looks sideways at me."

       Eric chuckled. "You keep giving me such wonderful ideas, my lover. Should I bring a pair that are wet with..."

       "You stop that train of thought right there, buddy."

       He frowned. "Maybe I ought to bring the ones with the big twist in them," he complained.

       She laughed in spite of herself, and he smiled back.

       "You should finish your meal before it gets cold," he said gently.

       "So should you," she answered, but she began eating again.

       He nodded and drank from his glass, licking the red off of his teeth appreciatively before opening the steamer and pulling out the second pod.

       "Does it really taste just like blood?" she asked curiously.

       "It is far superior to that synthetic crap they peddle these days," he replied, not bothering to hide his distaste.

       "So why not grow that? I mean, I'm sure there must be a vamp or two out there that knows something about gardening."

       "From what I hear, it is a very invasive vine, and, being a demon created plant, you can imagine that there is some concern over possible human discovery of it," he replied diplomatically.

       That seemed ridiculous to her. "As concerning as the vamps coming out of the closet after TrueBlood was released?"

       "Yes, but TrueBlood is made and sold by humans. Blood Vine cannot be found naturally anywhere in the human world," he pointed out with his usual pragmatism. "If a plant was to... sprout in the wrong place... Well, I am sure you can understand why certain individuals in power would frown upon that."

       She was reading between the lines and also catching snippets of thought from his mind. "So you're saying that it isn't widely grown because it's illegal?"

       He nodded. "There are a  ** _very_**  few sanctioned places where Blood Vine is cultivated, but the plots are only in very well established demon communities, and they are strictly monitored and controlled. The average vampire like myself would find it very difficult to purchase the pods as a private buyer, and it isn't something I could offer at Fangtasia."

       "So the only place you can get it is a place like this?"

       "Yes. A demon owned and operated establishment that serves the demon community almost exclusively," he confirmed, taking a drink.

       "Hmm. That sucks."

       He shrugged. "It just makes coming here that much more enjoyable, and, of course, nothing replaces real blood, especially the blood of a lover." He said "lover" like a caress.

       "If that's water, I'm wine?" she teased.

       He smiled. "Oh yes. You are sixty year-old, Oak-aged, single malt scotch."

       She knew her liquors, and he'd just described one of the most expensive boozes in the bar.

       "I'm flattered."

       He gave her a wry look. "You should be. I have very discerning tastes."

       She gave him another smile and leaned over the table to kiss him.

       The rest of dinner progressed without incident. They ate. They talked. They flirted. She was naughty and rubbed her foot up his calf and along his thigh to his crotch. He took the wind out of her sails by leaning back and spreading his legs in obvious delight.

       He ordered dessert for her – the chocolate mousse, and she ate it slowly with a bittersweet feeling in her chest. Their trip was coming to a close, and soon they would be back in Bon Temps, back in the crazy world of vampire politics and conflicting feelings. She'd be lying if she said both of them weren't apprehensive. Eric, especially, was tense and not looking forward to going back. From what she was catching from his mind, he was trying to anticipate Felipe's next move and how to placate Victor enough for the vampire boss to leave him pretty much alone. She, on the other hand, wasn't looking forward to going back to having to deal with Jason or the bar patrons who thought she was a whore because she dated vampires or face Sam knowing he wouldn't approve either.

       "What are you thinking?" her Viking asked.

       She sighed. He must have been feeling her swirling emotions through the bond. "Just not looking forward to going back."

       "If you're not ready..."

       "No. No. I'm ready. We've been gone long enough. I don't want anyone getting suspicious or worried," she interrupted.

       "I don't care about that," he insisted.

       "I do. And we need to keep the new King happy. Any longer and he'll really start to think you're up to no good."

       "Maybe I am," he countered with a wink.

       "If you are, I don't want to know. All I can tell you is to be careful."

       "I'm always careful, my lover. Always."

       "You'd better be, because if you come back dead, I'm going to kill you," she warned, glaring at him.

       He smiled and reached for her hand. "I promise, I will not do anything that jeopardizes us or our bond unless I have no choice, and even then, I will make sure you know why I'm making that decision. You are my bonded. There will be no secrets between us."

       Her own big secret poked her in the side, but she kicked it away and smiled.

       They finished dinner and left the dining room, taking one slow tour around the lodge as if to say good-bye. They came upon the gift shop. She had seen it before, but now she went in to peruse their offerings, wondering if there was anything she could bring back for Sam.

       While she was browsing, she came upon a mannequin dressed neatly in a long A-line denim skirt and beautiful cable knit sweater in tones of purple and blue. The colors reminded her of the colors of contentment within their bond, and she paused to admire it. Her Viking noticed her interest immediately.

       "It would look lovely on you," he whispered in her ear.

       She nodded. "I'm afraid to ask how much it is. I have a habit of finding the most expensive thing in a store."

       He snickered and went to find a salesperson. Before she knew it, she was being handed a large shopping tote with the entire outfit as displayed: skirt, sweater, winter-weight hose and knee-high brown leather boots.

       "It would please me if you were to wear it home," he suggested.

       She was going to balk, but then she saw quite clearly his intention to hike up the skirt while they were on the plane and have his way with her. Well, he had asked if she would wear skirts and dresses when he was around...

        _'No time to start like the present,'_  she mused, and slipped into the bathroom to change. Surprise. Everything fit. And Eric was right; the sweater did look lovely on her.

       She found him looking very thoughtful and serious when she came out of the bathroom. He'd been holding her parka and had fished out the wooden box he'd given her for safekeeping. He was studying it mightily hard until he caught her scent and lifted his head to see her dressed in the new outfit. His pleasure was evident in the bond and on his face.

       "It doesn't show much skin," she commented, feeling a little self-conscious. It was true. The outfit showed almost no skin, but the sweater was tight in just the right places and the skirt flared in just the right way to give her a svelte silhouette.

       "There are benefits to hinting at what lies beneath," he answered, touching her face and bending down for a kiss. "You look wonderful. Thank you."

       "You just wanted me in a skirt."

       His eyes gleamed. "Of course."

       She looked at the box in his hand, then back up into his eyes. He grew very serious and still.

       "Let's go to the sanctuary," he said.

       She nodded and took his hand, letting him guide her down the wide stairs to the lower level of the lodge. They didn't speak as they walked along the wide corridor with its many pieces of art until they came to the chapel doors. He held the door open for her, allowing her to go in ahead of him, and she waited for him to direct her as he went to the effigy of Hlin.

       He took the box from her and opened it. She peered into it as he carefully and gently pulled back a piece of black velvet that had been folded over the contents of the box, and she gasped when she saw what was beneath.

       It was a large pendant in bright silver in the shape of a blunt anchor. The anchor was decorated with swirls and Norse designs all the way up to the ring where a heavy silver chain was threaded through the loop.

       "It's beautiful," she breathed.

       "It is my Thor's Hammer," he said wistfully. "My father gave it to me right before my first voyage."

       "Oh."

       He looked as if he longed to touch it, but of course he couldn't because it would burn him.

       "You kept it with you all these years?"

       "I was wearing it when I was captured. After I was turned, Inara liked to torture me with it by putting it on me and letting it sear my skin."

       "Oh, Eric..."

       "Don't pity me. I took it back the night before I betrayed her to Carus. It and my sword are my most prized possessions." He handed her the box. "I'll need you to pick it up, my lover. I am giving it to the shrine as an offering to Hlin."

       She felt humbled and honored. "Of course," she agreed, reaching into the box and lifting out the pendant. She handled it with the utmost care and respect.

       "A piece this old and well preserved is very rare. Most Vikings were cremated with all of their weapons and jewelry," he stated with some air of authority.

       "I am sure it will be appreciated in the spirit in which it is given," she assured him.

       He nodded and knelt before the statue of Hlin. She knelt beside him, waiting for him to tell her what to do. He indicated with his head that she should place the Hammer with it's black velvet cloth at the goddess's feet, and she laid it gently on the carved wood block. Then she sat back on her knees with her head down while he prayed in Old Norse, his voice soft and reverent, staying quiet and still so as not to disturb him. She was curious as to what he was saying, but she refrained from peeking into his mind because she didn't want to invade his privacy during such a sacred moment.

       His words were heartfelt and she could sense the power in the room. She remembered Izzy's warning about prayers holding weight on Isle Elena, and she could certainly agree with that. She cast a furtive glance around at the other statues in the circular room and shivered when she thought she caught a few of them looking back. It gave her the willies, as if she was in the presence of something much bigger and much more profound.

       She hunkered down, trying not to look up or draw attention to herself as she waited for Eric to finish his prayers. When he finally did about ten minutes later, she looked searchingly at him as he slowly rose to his feet. He was peaceful, as content as she'd ever seen him, and his eyes were warm and full of love.

       "Thank you," he whispered, bending down to give her a tender kiss.

       She responded in kind, reaching up to touch his broad shoulders and grip his strong arms.

       "Ek vil hiem eigi," he murmured.  _'I don't want to go home.'_

       "I don't want to go home either," she agreed, then gasped in horror when she realized that he'd spoken in Old Norse, but that she'd answered his thought.

       She cast a terrified glance at her Viking to see him smiling knowingly at her.

       "I think you've been holding out on me, lover," he said slyly.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

_Chapter Nineteen_

       She gulped and took a step back, but he grabbed her arm by the elbow and loomed over her.

       "I'm waiting, my lover."

       Her jaw worked but no sound came out; a million thoughts raced through her mind as she scrambled to regroup.

       "I..."

        _'Have you been reading my mind for as long as I've been reading yours?'_  he sent leadingly.

       "Wh-wha?..." she stammered. "Y-you..."

       "What?" He loomed closer, his eyes innocent. "Vampire got your tongue?"

       "You knew?" she squeaked, her heart hammering.

       He gave a little shrug. "I suspected. I reasoned that if I was catching snippets out of your mind, you certainly might be listening in on me. Am I right, my lover?"

       She stammered a bit more, dropping her eyes as the shame made her cheeks flush.

       "Yes," she finally admitted. "How long have you suspected?"

       "Only since we renewed our bond. I kept giving you opportunities to come clean, but you never took them. I was so disappointed. Do you not trust me, my lover?"

       "Not you. Of course I trust you," she assured him, reaching for his hands. "But..."

       He took her hands, raising them to his lips. His kiss was affectionate, but his grip was iron hard. If she had any thoughts of running, she didn't have a chance.

       "But if you can read my mind what's to keep you from reading the minds of other vampires? Is that it? Has this already happened, my darling? Have you been seeing into the minds of other vampires?"

       In for a penny, in for a pound. She nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, but only for a day or so after I've had vampire blood. After that, you're all blanks again, although Izzy..."

       "Izzy?"

       "Izzy says the two of us will be able to hear each other. She said it would take a while, but I think she underestimated how strong our bond is because I've been hearing you pretty clearly since last night."

       He nodded. "Our bond is very strong," he agreed. "Stronger than this pettiness. You should have told me, lover."

       He was angry, but not enraged, and his thoughts held no violence in them, only melancholy. If anything, his wounded look did her in more than any tirade could have. She could have handled his anger, but she couldn't stand to see him so disappointed in her. The waterworks started almost immediately.

       "You're right. I'm horrible. I should have told you. It wasn't right for me to keep something so important from you," she apologized, sniffling.

       He nuzzled her, holding her hands close to his chest, still in his tight grip.

       "Yes, you should have. You should have trusted me."

       "I just didn't know how you'd react. I know how private vampires are and..." She trailed off, shrugging helplessly, her eyes full of tears.

       "If you and I can hear each other, that is a great advantage. If you can hear other vampires, that is an advantage also, but one we must keep an absolute secret," he stated.

       She nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly. "Yes. I know."

       His expression turned devious. "But if you could hear Victor... or Sandy... That might be of great use to us. Great use."

       The wheels were already turning, and his thoughts were flying so fast she couldn't keep up with them.

       "You're not mad at me?" she asked softly.

       "I'm not happy with you. I  _should_  punish you, although I am at a loss as to what would be an appropriate punishment. Since the issue is trust, if I were to hurt you that would damage your trust in me. But if I were to forgive you without any consequences, then that would set a precedence that I'd rather not have. What do you think, my lover? How should I punish you?"

       She stared at him, at a loss herself. Why was he asking her how he should punish her? Was he expecting her to come up with some kind of penalty or reproach on her own? She could think of a couple of things that wouldn't be particularly pleasant, but that wouldn't really hurt her. But in the end, knowing she'd done wrong and facing his disappointment was worse than anything he could do to her.

       "I don't know. I'm sorry. I feel awful. I should have trusted you."

       He sighed. "I could deny you sexual favors, but that would punish me too," he commented, then looked thoughtful. "Two weeks of showering alone, and I get to tell Bill about us."

       She winced. "I really think I should be present when you tell Bill," she argued.

       He huffed, but she set her jaw. "All right. Two weeks of showering alone, and one night sitting beside me at Fangtasia in the outfit of my choice."

       She grimaced at his added condition of choosing what she would wear, but she trusted him not to put her in anything that would make her look too cheap or slutty.

       "Alright, that's fair," she agreed.

       He nodded and kissed her forehead. "And no. More. Secrets. Understood?" he said in a firm voice, velvet over steel.

       "Yes," she answered, pressing her cheek to his chest. "I'm sorry. Really, I am."

       "I forgive you, my lover," he murmured, nuzzling her again as his arms came around her.

       She sighed, all of the tension leaving her body as she returned the embrace, hugging him close.

       "I love you," he whispered.

       "I love you, too," she replied, feeling it with every cell in her body.

       The air in the shrine changed. There was no noise, no outward sign of the change, but the small hairs on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end and a chill ran up her spine. There was Power moving in the room, spreading slowly through the air, and tingling along the surface of her skin. She shivered and pressed closer to her Viking, flicking her gaze to the side. Eric noticed it immediately and his countenance changed. The blip that marked him on her mental GPS turned dull red and throbbed as his thoughts turned dark and dangerous. She gripped his arms tightly and stepped away, turning towards the door, searching for the threat.

       Standing there, as still as the statues in the sanctuary, was Elena. She was dressed in flowing white cloth draped over her body in a Greek style, like a fancy toga, and there was a small circlet of gold around her head. She looked every bit the Goddess that she was, regal and awe-inspiring, and Sookie swore that she was glowing softly in the dimly lit shrine.

       Eric stepped forward and bowed deeply, but Sookie could sense his confusion. He didn't know why Elena was there or why she was dressed in her traditional Grecian garb.

       "My lady," he greeted with the utmost respect.

       The Presence in the room was almost overwhelming, and Sookie knew something Very Big was happening. She glanced around worriedly, even more convinced that the statues were looking back at her.

       "Hlin has answered you, Viking," Elena said, her voice sending tremors through both of them.

       Eric straightened up and cocked his head quizzically. "My lady?" he questioned.

       Elena's dark eyes lifted to peer over his shoulder and the both of them turned around to face the statue of the Norse Goddess.

       "Oh," Sookie gasped when she saw the effigy. Eric was silent, but his emotions were reeling.

       The Thor's Hammer that had been laid at the Goddess's feet was now around her neck, gleaming brightly against the rich color of carved wood. Sookie had no idea how the pendant had gotten there, but she noticed right away that it was a little different. There was something brass-colored embedded in the silver where the handle met the head of the hammer, and she took a tentative step forward.

       "It is for you, Norseman," Elena stated.

       By now Sookie had approached the statue, staring at the silent face and the glowing necklace around Hlin's throat. She was close enough to see the pendant and it's new addition, and her hands flew to her mouth when she recognized what it was. Eric was at her side in a heartbeat.

        _'What is it?'_  her lover asked, sending clearly.

       "A bullet," she replied, stunned. But not just any bullet. She knew down to the marrow of her bones which bullet this was. But how could it be? It was tucked inside a scrap of Eric's shirt and hidden away at the back of her jewelry box ñ a macabre memento from her trip to Dallas. "The bullet I sucked out of your shoulder the night the Fellowship attacked Stan's place in Dallas."

       He looked from her face to the necklace then back to her face. "You kept it?"

       She nodded.

       "Why?"

       "A souvenir, I guess. I dunno. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

       He looked at the necklace with curious wonder and not a little pain. The pendant and chain were silver. He couldn't touch them no matter how much he wanted to.

       "It is for you. Hlin wishes you to have it," Elena informed.

       She patted Eric's arm comfortingly. "I'll get it for you," she said, reaching out to carefully lift the silver chain from around the wooden head of the statue. She avoided looking into the carved eyes, afraid of what she might see there.

       Coming free, the necklace felt oddly heavy, and Sookie swore it was pulsing faintly. Her hands shook as she moved to put the Hammer in the box Eric was now offering to her.

       "Place it around his neck," the Goddess commanded.

       She balked. "But it'll burn him. It's silver," she argued.

       Elena speared her with a Look then raised her eyes to Eric, her face impassive.

        _'This is a test of faith,'_  her Viking said as he turned to her and lowered his head.

       "Eric! No."

       "Put it on me, Sookie. Do it now."

       She cast a pleading glance to the Goddess, but there was no help or reprieve for her in the cold eyes, so she gritted her teeth and obeyed. Cringing as she slid the silver chain over Eric's head, she placed the Thor's Hammer around her lover's neck, sending mental "I'm sorry"s all the while. She squeezed her eyes shut as she released the chain, waiting for the hissing sound and the stench of his burning flesh.

       Nothing happened.

       Her eyes snapped open to find her Viking looking as shocked as she was, and he slowly reached one hand up to his throat to touch the bright metal.

       "It's not burning you..." she breathed.

       "No," he confirmed, his voice shaky.

       They looked at the statue, and Eric dropped to his knees. His was praying again, his voice low and fast, his head deeply bowed.

       "What energy She had to manifest, She has placed into this sacred relic, but Hlin speaks through me. So long as you wear this Hammer, you shall be immune to silver. This is Her gift to Her faithful one," Elena informed.

       Eric raised his head long enough to look at the Goddess and place his hand over the Hammer, pressing it over his unbeating heart. There were tears in his eyes, but he would not let them fall so Sookie cried for him, the wetness rolling down her cheeks as she looked at her lover and felt his awe. He bowed his head to Elena and turned once again to the statue of Hlin, saying more prayers. Sookie didn't need to speak Old Norse to know he was saying thank you in the most heartfelt way he could.

       She watched, crouched next to her Viking as he prayed, one hand on his broad shoulder while she kept her eyes on Elena. The Goddess hadn't moved from her spot, and she was watching them impassively, but Sookie got the impression that she wasn't done with them yet. When Eric was finished his prayers, she took his arm and stood with him, and they both faced Elena.

       "Thank you so much," Sookie said sincerely.

       Elena nodded, then something behind her moved. Sookie gulped and took a small step back, bumping into Eric who was directly behind her, as a new figure stepped out from the Goddess's shadow.

       It was a boy, an impossibly beautiful boy about sixteen or seventeen years old. He had a cherub's face with round, rosy cheeks and a thick head of dark gold curls. He wore only a pair of white linen pants, leaving his muscular chest bare, but his lack of upper garments may have been because he was also sporting a pair of white-feathered wings sprouting out from his shoulder blades.

       "Oh," Sookie gasped, not sure what to make of the newcomer. That was okay because Eric knew who he was immediately.

_'Eros.'_

       Eros. Izzy had mentioned an Eros. She'd said something about her and Eric recharging Eros all by themselves with their sexual energy. They'd obviously done a bang-up job because this God looked whole and very "manifested" indeed. Both she and Eric bowed, although Eric bowed deeper. She was still too American to lower her head that much, and she felt Eric's amusement through the bond. She gave him a mental kick.

       "I and my mother owe you a boon of gratitude," the God said. His voice was honey, smooth and oh so good going down, and Sookie had no more doubts. His voice was pure sex.

        _'His mother?'_

 _'Aphrodite,'_  Eric provided.

       "You owe us nothing..." she started to say, blushing, but Eric's hand on her arm stopped her.

       "We are honored to have been of service to you and your mother," her Viking said in his most respectful tone.

       Eros held out his hand and they both stood up straight to see that he was offering them a handful of triangular-shaped, bright green leaves. She recognized the plant right away – they were common mint leaves. She could even smell them from where she stood.

       "These are mint leaves," Eros told them. "I have imbued them with power. When placed under the tongue, they will counteract the daytime stupor."

       She gasped, making a shocked sound, as she accepted the God's gift because Eric was too stunned to move. Eros's fingers brushed against her palm as he placed the leaves in her hand, and she felt a rush of pure lust. She got a hold of herself enough to bow her head.

       "Thank you."

       Eros nodded and looked at Eric, his eyes serious and intent.

       "You will still be susceptible to sunlight, but you will remain alert and able to function. Each leaf will last from sunrise to sunset. I have given you five. Use them wisely," the God informed.

       "I am humbled and deeply grateful. Thank you, my lord," Eric said earnestly.

       Eros chuckled and let his eyes roam up and down both her and her Viking's considerable physiques, and Sookie got the impression that he didn't distinguish between gay and straight sex. She flushed and fumbled to put the precious leaves in the wooden box for safekeeping.

       "Thank you, sir," she stammered.

       Eros stepped back, and Elena raised her hand. They watched as she opened her palm to reveal a ring. It was a man's ring with a wide gold band and a round signet upon which was carved the image of a Trojan horse set against a black background. Helen's symbol.

       Eric reached up to accept the ring, his eyes full of questions, and Sookie watched him slip it on the ring finger of his right hand. Of course it fit perfectly.

       "This ring will protect you from the sun's deadly rays," Elena said. "It will not last forever. The more you use it, the weaker it will become. It is all I can give you. We are small gods. We work... small miracles."

       "We are awed by your generosity and forever in your debt," Eric replied, bowing again.

       Sookie started smiling, her mind whirling, and bowed her head a couple of times. "Yes. Thank you. Thank you very, very much." She was on the verge of babbling, but Eric's calming influence settled her.

       "We guard our faithful jealously," Elena said, giving them both a meaningful look. "Without them we cease to exist."

       "We are your faithful servants, my lady, my lord," Eric replied.

       "Go in peace until we see each other again," the Goddess said softly.

       "Until we see each other again," Eric repeated as he reached over to take her hand, and the both of them bowed from the waist towards the two Gods.

       The energy in the room snapped like an overstretched rubber band, and they found themselves alone in the shrine again. Whatever Presence had been there was now gone, and the statues were just statues again, silent and empty. She turned to Eric, knowing that the astonished expression on his face mirrored her own, and she started to tremble as she came down from her shock.

       A million thoughts were flying through her head as she tried to make sense of what had just happened and what it all meant. Unfortunately, her mind kept landing on the same conclusion, and that filled her with dread.

       "Eric, I'm scared," she blurted.

       He'd been silent, deep in thought, but she'd been too busy freaking out in her own head that she hadn't been inside his.

       "I know," he stated simply.

       "A necklace that makes you immune to silver. Leaves that keep you awake during the day. A ring that will protect you from sunlight. Eric, they're ** _warnings!_**  Our lives are in danger."

       "Yes. Much more danger than I had originally thought," he agreed, his voice steady, his face hard.

       "They know something. They're trying to protect us."

       "Yes."

       She looked at the Thor's Hammer and noticed that it had dulled. No longer was it gleaming silver, but a darker gray, and the silver chain now looked like a cord of braided leather.

       "It's faded," she commented, indicating the Hammer.

       Eric lifted up the pendant and held it in his palm reverently. "Yes. It's cloaked. Anyone looking at it or smelling it will think it's pewter. The bullet in the metal is soaked with my blood, so that throws the scent off too."

       "Is that why Hlin used it?"

       He nodded and slipped the Hammer under his sweater, out of sight yet close to his heart. "That and, because the bullet has such a personal tie to the two of us, anyone who sees me wearing it will assume it was a bonding gift from you."

       She snorted. She wished she'd been so creative. She'd been planning to just get him a wedding ring. Hlin had trumped her but good.

       "Don't be jealous," her bonded chided gently. "I will wear and treasure anything you give me, and it will mean just as much."

       "Fine. I'll get you a pair of socks," she groused, her pride piqued.

       He chuckled and kissed her. Her weak attempt at humor had taken the edge off her anxiety, but the underlying dread was still there.

       "What are we going to do?"

       His face was thoughtful, his eyes intense, as he took her by the elbow and ushered her out of the shrine.

       "We're going to the Internet Café. I need to send an email," he replied, striding down the hall.

       He was walking at his full pace and she scrambled to keep up with him. Finally, he just slung her onto his back, which wasn't easy to do with her in the long skirt, and carried her as she clung to his shoulders. The shopping tote with her old clothes was hooked onto her arm, and it slapped against his side as he moved through the lodge. She'd put the box with its magic mint leaves in the bag, and she prayed they'd be safe in there even if the box got jostled around.

       The Internet Café was on the lower level near the rear entrance to the lodge that patrons used when coming over from Nike's or the spa. It wasn't very large, but it had a small business center with wireless connectivity and a handful of available computers. Eric sat at one of the computers and she sat next to him, pulling over an extra chair, as she watched him sign into his email. She choked on a laugh when she saw his username: ErictheGreat1000.

       "You have an email address, right?" he asked her. "I want it."

       "Eric, you know I barely know how to use a computer. The only one I have is the one I got from Hadley's apartment and it's old."

       "That, too, will change my lover."

       "Good luck getting anything but Dial-Up in Bon Temps," she countered, certain that her Viking would give up once he knew he would be restricted to 56K.

       "I will pay to run a FIOS line to your house."

       "What? Oh no you..."

       "Later, my lover," he cut her off, clicking on a username in his rather short address list: Pam. "I will have to send an email because there is no cell service here, but she should be checking her messages on her phone."

       He sent a brief email:  **Pam**.  **We are returning tonight. Our flight will land at the old Lucien Airfield at approximately 2:00am.**

       There was a short delay, then his email inbox blipped. Pam had replied,  **Understood. Should we expect you in Shreveport?**

        **Unlikely unless my presence is required,**  Eric typed back, beginning a short email conversation with his child.

**No. All is well here. Did you take pictures of the snow? I miss snow.**

       Sookie blinked. It seemed an odd thing for Pam to ask her maker.

**Then I will see you tomorrow. Yes, we took pictures of the snow. Remind me to send you skiing for your next vacation. I must go. I will bring you back something pretty.**

       He didn't wait for Pam's reply as he signed off and closed the program.

       "What was that all about?" she asked.

       "Setting a trap. If someone is intercepting my messages, they will know we are coming back tonight."

       She hadn't even considered that someone might be spying on Eric through his email. Vampires tended to be rather technology challenged, with a few exceptions like Bill. She remembered how shocked Stan had been to discover that someone had bugged his conference table.

       "You don't think it's someone at Fangtasia?" she gasped, unable to fathom any of "her" vamps betraying their Sheriff. Eric was feared, but he was also deeply respected.

       "No. I am certain of my people's loyalty, but there have been some new faces, vampires from Nevada who have come up to explore the new territory. They do not owe me fealty," Eric replied, standing to his full height and leading her from the café.

       "They're Felipe's?"

       "And Victor's. Victor has a strong following." Eric sneered. "They ride his coattails like jackals, sniffing for weakness."

       She nodded. She knew the type.

       They went back to the gift shop, and she picked up a little shot glass with a Trojan Horse on it and a postcard that had a picture of Lake Superior's shore line for Sam. Eric bought a gold and carnelian necklace for Pam that was very Victorian and very expensive. He tried to buy her a set of ruby earrings, but she gave him such a Death Glare that he backed off with a snitty huff.

       It was bad enough that he was already planning to make good on his declaration of having high-speed Internet run to her house,  ** _and_**  get her a computer to go with it. He was thinking lightweight laptop, and she was at a loss as to how she could talk him out of it, because he was digging in his mental heels and had no intention of budging on that one.

       High speed Internet would be required for real-time monitoring of her house once the security system he was planning to have installed was in place. That also was non-negotiable. Eric already had a company and a system in mind. It was the same firm that had done the security on his house in Shreveport, and they could be trusted with a vampire's unique defensive needs.

       It didn't matter if she really didn't want the system. On this she had no say. Where her safety was involved, Eric brooked no argument. There would be no compromising, no negotiating, no complaining – period – and she knew better than to quarrel with him about it. She gave him a suffering sigh and mentally surrendered the point. Eric was openly gleeful.

       By the time they had finished their shopping, it was approaching 8:30pm, and they only had a little over an hour before they had to make their way over to the airfield to board the jet that would take them back to Shreveport. She and Eric decided to pass the time down in the game room, hoping that a friendly game of pool would help ease their growing unhappiness and anxiety, but when they got down to the game room, they found Izzy and Maria already using the pool table.

        _'Hello, my little padawan,'_  Izzy greeted cheerfully.

        _'Greetings, Sith Lord,'_  she replied. Hey, she knew  _Star Wars_  as well as anyone. Bill had been crazy about movies with aliens, and  _Star Wars_  was the great-grandpappy of all space movies. That and  _War of the Worlds_.

       Izzy's mental laughter was her answer, but then the woman grew serious.  _'You're tense.'_

_'We're leaving tonight.'_

_'Ah. Yeah, I knew that.'_

       She wanted to talk about what had happened in the shrine, about the gifts she and Eric had been given, and her fears as to what they meant, but they weren't her secrets to reveal, and, while she was sure Izzy and Maria could be trusted, there was no telling who they might leak the information to, so she kept silent and put up a shield so no one could peek into her head without her permission. She was fairly certain Izzy would respect the barrier and not try to pry into her mind, and she was pretty sure it wouldn't keep Eric out because their tie was much more direct.

       "Good evening, Eric," Izzy greeted, giving him a nod.

       He took a step towards the small woman and bowed his head slightly. "Good evening. I am told that you were the one who helped my mate today."

       Izzy shrugged. "I didn't do all that much."

       "Still, I am grateful. It is important for Sookie to learn how to use her gift properly. A poorly trained gift can be used against the wielder."

       Izzy nodded in agreement. "I know. I've given her the basics, and some exercises to use in practice to help hone her control, and I'll do more with her the next time we see each other."

       The notion of seeing the two women again made Eric happy, and Sookie realized that she had forgotten to tell Eric that Maria was planning to come to Fangtasia in the spring.

        _'Ooops. Forgot about that. Sorry,'_  she sent, quickly filling him in.

        _'We had other things on our minds,'_  he replied.

       "My bonded tells me you are planning to visit Shreveport in the spring?" he said smoothly, addressing Maria.

       The Gypsy woman nodded. "Yes. I was thinking sometime in April."

       "Excellent. When the time comes, please finalize the arrangements with my beautiful Events Coordinator," he told them, indicating her with his hand.

       She rolled her eyes and smiled nervously.  _'I haven't even said I'll take the job yet,'_  she reminded.

        _'Of course you'll take the job. There was never any doubt you'd take the job.'_

 _'Hey, don't get all bossy with me. We aren't even home yet,'_  she snapped.

_'And don't get belligerent just for the sake of being stubborn.'_

       Okay, maybe this mind-to-mind thing was going to be a real pain after all.

       The two women seemed to notice the little exchange and Izzy smiled.

_'You can hear him. I was right.'_

       She snorted.  _'Yeah. Mr. Bossy's in my head.'_

_'Trouble in paradise already?'_

She didn't answer, but fumed silently. It was private business between her and Eric that would have to be worked out.

       Izzy laughed and turned to Eric. "Go easy on her, will ya? She's not used to this whole acting as one thing."

       Eric looked at his mate and slid an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. "I'll try to keep that in mind when she is being... difficult," he answered, giving her a raised eyebrow.

       She huffed and refrained from commenting, then her Viking turned the tables on her by giving her a nuzzle and a kiss.

        _'I love you,'_  he sent, his lips kissing the soft spot behind her ear.

       She melted, going all gooey inside.  _'Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love you, too.'_

       He chuckled.

       "Did the two of you want to play pool? We're almost finished our game here," Maria asked, changing the subject.

       Sookie shook her head. "We don't have to. We only came down here to pass the time before we have to go to the air field."

       "When's your flight?"

       "Ten."

       The clock on the game room wall read 8:54.

       "Not much time left," Izzy commented.

       Her heart sank. "No."

       "There you are," a new voice said, and she and Eric turned to see Toth hurrying towards them carrying a cloth bag. "I've been looking all over for you."

       The silver-haired demon stopped in front of them and offered the bag to Eric. "Here are your freeze-dried Blood Vine pods."

       "Thank you," Eric said with genuine pleasure.

       "Each pod is individually sealed in a hermetic package. When you're ready to use one, just open the package, add a little bit of water and wait five minutes. It should re-hydrate, then all you need to do is heat the pod and squeeze it out."

       "Sounds simple enough, and they should be close to full potency?" her Viking asked with a glint in his eye.

       Toth grinned and cast her a glance. She blushed.

       "Yeah, should be," the demon confirmed.

       Eric grinned back. "Excellent. Thank you, Toth."

       "You're welcome, Mr. Northman. We hope to see you and Miss Sookie again real soon."

       "For our anniversary at the very least," Eric promised, placing the cloth bag in the shopping tote with her old clothes.

       "Great! See you then," their waiter responded happily, then whisked off with his usual speed. She turned to her Viking, her eyes wide.

       "You're gonna bring me back here next November?" she blurted.

       "Of course. Why not?" He seemed shocked that she would object.

       "Because it's effing  ** _cold!_**  That's why."

       "I thought you liked this place," he countered, offended.

       "I  ** _do_**  like this place. I'd like it better when it's not twenty below outside."

       "It's not that cold," he corrected.

       "I don't care. Why can't we go somewhere warm?" She waved a hand towards Izzy. "Izzy says there are Supe Sandals."

       "Supe Sandals?"

       "You know... couples places usually on a beach somewhere."

       "Because sunbathing is my favorite pastime," he replied drolly.

        _'Well... I could sunbathe during the day and soak up all those rays and be nice and tan for you. I'd wear sundresses and a bikini...'_  she sent coyly.

_'Where everyone could see you and I'd be stuck in a windowless room, dead asleep, unable to defend you from unwanted advances?'_

       She cast a glance to the ring on his right hand, but Eric's expression went stony.

_'I don't think that was what Elena intended when she gave it to me.'_

       Her face fell, and she felt the dread creeping up on her again.  _'No. I suppose not.'_

       Eric comforted her. "We'll discuss it when we get home. I'll look into what places are available, and we'll see if one will suit us both. Does that sound fair?"

       She nodded, brightening a bit. "Yes."

       Izzy clapped. "See, you're compromising already. You'll be like two Old-Marrieds in no time."

       "I should hope not. I much prefer to be more like Newlyweds on their Honeymoon," Eric quipped back, giving her a leer. She resisted the urge to smack him.

       Izzy laughed and winked at her.  _'Everything okay?'_

       The question came out of the blue, and she scrambled, wondering if her barrier had slipped a bit.

        _'Yes, everything is fine,'_  she replied.

        _'Liar. You should know by now that you can't bullshit mind-to-mind,'_  her teacher reminded.

       She blanched, but reinforced her mental wall.  _'I can't talk about it.'_

_'Okay, I get that, but if you need help, you call me. My number is on the card I gave you.'_

       She choked up a little, grateful for everything both women had done for her and Eric when they'd been complete strangers only five days before.  _'I will. Thank you for everything you've done.'_

       "Pffft. We girls gotta stick together. All this weirdness can get a bit much for just one of us," Izzy kidded.

       She laughed, feeling a bit lighter, and turned to Eric. "We still have forty minutes. Wanna play some air hockey?"

       "Or you can try to clobber the kid playing Resident Evil over there," Izzy suggested, nodding towards where Vincent was playing on the game console. His foxy friends were nowhere in evidence.

       "You let a seven year-old play Resident Evil?" she blurted. She didn't know much about video games, but she'd seen the commercials for that one on the TV at Merlotte's, and she knew it was rated M for Mature.

       Izzy shrugged. "Kid's seen real zombies in his lifetime. What's a few fake ones? You gotta remember, for us the monsters are real."

       She flushed at her own stupidity and rudeness. "I'm sorry. That was rude."

       "Don't be. You don't know what we'd give for him not to know what real monsters are," the woman said sadly.

       Sookie glanced over at Maria who was looking stricken, and she felt even worse. She was going to start apologizing again when Eric put a hand on her shoulder.

       "Actually, I was thinking that I wanted to take one last tour of the grounds, maybe go down to the lakeshore and say goodbye to Gitchee Gumee herself," he interrupted.

       "Gitchee Gumee?" she repeated.

       "Gitchee Gumee is the Algonquin name for Lake Superior," her Viking explained. "It means All Powerful Lake."

       "Oh. Well, if that's what you want to do..."

       He nodded and took her arm. "I haven't properly said hello to her this entire trip. I should show my respect. Ladies, of you will excuse us?"

       "Of course. You guys have a safe trip home and we'll see you in April," Izzy said.  _'And if you need to talk, call me, okay? We've seen a lot of badness. Whatever it is that's got you spooked, we'd probably be able to help.'_

_'Thanks.'_

       "Be safe," Maria said, giving them a little wave. "Vincent, Mr. Northman and Miss Sookie are leaving to go back home."

       The boy waved between killing zombies. "Bye, Miss Sookie. Bye, Mr. Northman. Try not to make anybody else have wild monkey sex!"

       "Vincent!" his mother gasped, her eyes wide, then she narrowed them at Izzy. "I told you he wasn't asleep."

       "And on that note," Eric said, grinning. "We shall take our leave."

       He ushered her out of the game room quickly, not that she was complaining because she certainly didn't want to be around when Maria started in on Izzy for the monkey sex comment.

       "Did you really want to say good-bye to the lake?" she asked as he strode towards the rear exit.

       "Yes. I think it would be a nice gesture."

       "But it's freezing out there..."

       "That's why I bought you this warm parka and hat," he pointed out, tugging on the sleeve of the coat she had draped over her arm.

       She sighed and gave him a look as she put the coat on and shoved the hat on her head, trying to glare him into submission, but she had about as much chance of glaring him into anything as she had of making roses sprout out her nose. Then she put on her gloves and followed him out into the night.

       The moment the chill air hit her face, she felt that same sense of exhilaration, and she realized that she was feeling Eric's joy at the wind in his face and the scent of the water. He truly did love it here, even if the water was fresh water and not the salt water of his Scandinavian homeland, and he felt the pull of the Deep tugging at him. They went down to the lakeshore and she stood back as Eric slipped off his boots and socks and waded toe-deep into the water. She shivered just looking at him do it, but she knew from the bond that he didn't mind, or even really feel, the cold, and she watched as he crouched down and dipped his hands in the water, letting it run through his fingers.

       He scooped the water three or four times, each time bringing the water up, then opening his fingers to let it spill out, gesturing out to the deep water somewhere out in the darkness, then he splashed his face once and flicked the remaining water off of his fingers, and returned to her side. His feet were wet, so they sat side-by-side on a nearby bench while he wiped them clean of sand and water, and put his socks and boots back on.

       "It's twenty after nine," he said. "We should head for the air field."

       She nodded, feeling torn between what she wanted and what she knew she had to do.

       "You wanna just say to Hell with it and run off to Timbuktu?" she joked.

       "Timbuktu is an even bigger backwater than Bon Temps. I'd vote for Hilton Head or Colorado Springs," he replied, going along.

       She snorted. "Oh, I so do not want to live in a hurricane zone."

       "Colorado Springs it is, or maybe Albuquerque if you want somewhere warmer."

       "Not San Francisco or Los Angeles?" she teased.

       "Los Angeles isn't a city, it's a holding facility, and if you think vampire politics is bad in Louisiana, just think how much worse it would be when you mix vampire politics with Hollywood."

       She crinkled her nose and shook her head. "Okay, so L.A. is out. What about New York then?"

       "Vampire Mafioso," he replied quickly.

       "Ick. How about New England somewhere? I hear the little towns up there are real nice, and we could live close to the water."

       He smiled at her, a gentle smile that said everything she would ever want to hear from him. "That sounds lovely. I can close out some accounts when we get back, sign the bar over to Pam, and we can go."

       It would have been funnier if she hadn't known he'd do it in a heartbeat... well... one of  _her_  heartbeats.

       "You'd miss being the boss," she said.

       "And you'd miss Bon Temps, and all you know there."

       "But it's nice to dream, right?"

       He nodded. "Yes, and you know you have but to say the word and..." He made a sweeping motion with his hand like an airplane taking off.

       "Yeah, I know. Thanks." She meant it.

       He took her hand and kissed it through her glove. "Let's go home, my lover."

       She sighed and stood, glad when he put his arm around her and kept her close as they walked.

       "What are we going to do if there's trouble?"

       "We'll deal with it. We've been given the necessary weapons we need to fight the threat. We have to trust that we'll be able do defend ourselves when the time comes."

       "Yeah," she said, but she wasn't completely convinced. Eric sensed her worry, and stopped them long enough to give her a lingering kiss.

       "I will not allow any harm to come to you, my lover. Trust in me."

       "I do."

       "Good."

       He kissed her again and picked her up, putting her onto his back and carrying her as he took to the air and flew them to the airfield. They were both shocked to find a large group of Supes waiting for them to wish them bon voyage. She recognized Noria, and her masseuse, Surima, and the librarian, and the cat barmaid, along with several other staff members and guests she had seen in passing. Even Keno and Rori were there, chittering.

       "Oh..." she said as Eric set her down. He put an arm around her shoulders, his presence comforting and reassuring.

_'Fear not, my lover, they don't mean us any harm.'_

       That was good to know. All she knew was that they were standing between her and the warm plane.

       Noria came forward as spokesperson, smiling brightly. None of them seemed to feel the cold at all.

       "We came to wish you safe travels home," the hostess said.

       "Oh. Um. Thank you," she said nervously.

       "You have been wonderful guests. We hope that you will come to see us again."

       "You have our word. We will be back," Eric replied.

       He was in his element, being the object of adoration, and he was preening.

       Surima stepped forward and gave her a bottle of massage lotion scented with the amber and sandalwood essential oils. "For massages at home," she said with a glowing smile.

       "Thank you, most beauteous lady," her Viking smoothed accepting the gift for the both of them.

       "Oh, he is a charmer. I'd keep him," the four-armed masseuse commented giving her a wry look.

       It was odd, but getting a gift that had nothing to do with possible danger or threats on her and Eric's lives was a relief.

       She snickered. "Thank you. And thank you for the lotion."

       "I know you will use it wisely."

       "Oh, believe me, we shall," Eric assured her. He was having  _far_  too much fun.

       The librarian approached next and Sookie held her breath when the woman lifted the bandana that covered her brow. She'd been right and the cloth had covered a third eye in the center of her forehead. It opened, the iris a deep ruby red, and Sookie shivered all the way down to her toes. The woman did not address Eric, but looked directly at her and reached for her hands. Still shivering, Sookie raised her hands and allowed the woman to cup her palms. She felt something being placed into them, and she glanced down to see four nondescript shiny, black stones resting against her skin.

       "Bury these, one at each cardinal point around your property," the demoness instructed. "They will afford you some protection for your house and land. Those who mean you and your bonded harm will find it difficult to pass through."

       She gulped and nodded, then couldn't contain herself any longer. "What do you see? What's going to happen?"

       Eric gave her a mental rebuke but she brushed him off, and the woman did not seem offended by her question.

       "The future is fluid. It ebbs and changes direction," the demoness answered. "Nothing is set. But there is danger. However, you have been given the weapons you need to fight it, and you have strong allies. More than you know."

       "Thank you."

       The third eye closed and the woman pulled the bandana back over it as she bowed and stepped aside. Sookie quickly put the stones in the pocket of her parka, patting them to make sure they were safe, while she mentally tried to remember if she owned a compass.

       The next people to greet them were a mixture of resort staff and guests. All of them had well wishes for them and some had small gifts. It would seem that quite a few individuals felt the need to thank her and Eric for the  _pleasure_  they had brought to them, an honor she wasn't so sure she wanted to have, but Eric was ecstatic and handling everyone with his usual charm. Many of them were potential clients or business contacts, so he was laying it on thick, thanking them and expressing his happiness that he had been of service. There was a financier and an investment banker who both gave Eric their cards, and a florist from Minneapolis who placed beautiful white flower leis around her and Eric's necks.

       "White ginger is for weddings and newlyweds," the thin, doe-eyed Supe woman told them.

        _'Hmm. We come to Michigan and we get lei'd,'_  her Viking smirked, amusement dancing in his eyes.

       She snorted, but covered up her gaffe with a fake sneeze and a smile. "Thank you."

       More people came up around them, all expressing their appreciation and thanks, and making her more and more self-conscious and uncomfortable as the long minutes passed. Finally, just when it looked like they were going to have to delay the flight home, the crowd parted and let them pass to where the birdman pilot was waiting by the folding stairs. Eric had long since sensed her growing discomfort at being the center of attention and her dislike of the cold, so he had been steadily ushering her towards the jet. They stood on the top step like a couple of movie stars and waved to the crowd who waved back, then they stepped into the plane, Eric behind her, and the pilot followed.

       By now, she'd had enough, and she was never gladder than when the pilot closed the cabin door and latched the lock with a satisfying click.

       "Thank you," she said sincerely, letting out a sigh. He had a nametag on today and she read it through glazed eyes: Perin.

       Eric pointed her towards one of the plush recliner chairs, and she sank into it. The white ginger lei around her neck smelled heavenly, but the sight of a wreath of flowers around her Viking's neck just seemed wrong. The aforementioned Viking chuckled, slipped the lei from around his neck, and placed it over hers.

       "Better?"

       She smiled and leaned back into the comfortable seat. "Much. I hate being in a crowd."

       "You really must get used to being admired, my lover," he chided gently, taking the seat next to hers. "As my bonded, you will receive the same attention as I when we are together."

       She groaned and hid her face in her hands. "Can't you tell them to express their appreciation by leaving me alone?" she asked.

       He laughed softly and shook his head. "They will pay you the honor you deserve, my lover. All of my subjects will bow to you."

       "I don't want them to bow to me. See, Eric, this is what I was worried about. I don't want to be the trophy wife of the Big Boss Vamp. I just want to be me, Sookie Stackhouse, barmaid."

       He gave her a sympathetic look. "Too late for that, my lover, but I will let it be known that gross displays of loyalty are unwelcome."

       Knowing vampires, a "gross display of loyalty" would be the head of someone who'd threatened her all wrapped up in a box with a big red bow.

        _'Such things would be left to me, and I'd do the killing,'_  he sent, peeking into her mind. She thought she might be sick, but he bolstered her.

       "That, also, will be something you must get used to."

       "You killing anyone who looks sideways at me?" she asked, feeling nauseous again.

       "I won't kill them for looking sideways at you, I promise. If I did, I wouldn't have any subjects or customers left. You are a beautiful woman, and everyone will look sideways at you."

       She rolled her eyes. "And half of them will be wondering how I snagged you, and the other half will be trying to figure out a way to get rid of me."

       "Never. I will not allow any harm to come to you," he vowed. It was the second time that night that he'd made almost the exact same promise.

       "You can't protect me in the daytime, Eric."

       "Then I will teach you how to defend yourself and give you my blood often enough to maintain your strength. I already know that you are not a shrinking damsel, but I will train you to be a warrior like me."

       " Just call me Sookie Stackhouse, Warrior Princess."

       Eric leered. "I'll even buy you the leather skirt and gilded bustier."

       "Not a chance, buster."

       He laughed out loud and leaned forward to kiss her. "I do love you. You are an endless source of entertainment and pleasure." He said the last with a twinkle in his eye.

       The jet rolled forward, and she felt it beginning its turn to head for the runway, and she jolted a bit, her retort slipping out of her mind before she'd had a chance to say it. For all she knew, he'd already heard it anyway. She gave Eric a frightened glance, and he reached forward to take her hand and rub circles on her palm to comfort her.

       "Do you truly dislike flying?" he asked.

       "Not really, it's just the take-off that makes me a little nervous," she admitted, gripping the armrest tightly with her free hand.

       He grinned and slipped off the seat, kneeling between her legs, and she wondered if she'd ever get used to seeing this magnificent creature on his knees at her feet.

       "Then I shall just have to distract you and make you forget why you were nervous in the first place," he purred, sliding his hands up her legs and under her skirt.

       She gasped and twitched as he pushed up the denim and lowered his head to do just that.


	20. Chapter Twenty

_Chapter Twenty_

       The flight back was much more enjoyable than the flight to Isle Elena. Eric converted the two loveseats into the bed, then gave her a very long, detailed initiation into the Mile High Club. There were definite perks to having a private jet all to themselves, and she discovered that turbulence while making love at thirty thousand feet could be interesting. Eric had certainly enjoyed the extra gyrations.

       Afterwards, he'd laughed and told a story about how he'd been in California at the turn of the last century, and he'd been having sex when an earthquake hit. Since the quake had started during a pivotal moment in their coupling, it had taken the two of them a few moments to realize that the earth really  ** _was_** moving. He snickered as he remembered getting himself and his partner out of the building before it collapsed on their heads. Neither of them had had much opportunity to get dressed, but thankfully they'd gone to her place, and his place had survived the quake fairly well.

       Sookie tried to imagine what it would be like to be in the middle of screwing her Viking when the walls started shaking. Yeah, it might take her a bit to realize she wasn't imagining it, too. He'd roared with laughter when she'd said that and admitted that he hoped there would be more turbulence for them to make love through. She'd just rolled her eyes and stretched out on the convertible mattress.

       "May I use your phone?" she asked during one of their snuggle sessions.

       "Of course," he agreed, and slipped off the bed to rummage for the phone in his discarded jeans. He was still wearing the sweater she'd picked out for him, and his gorgeous butt cheeks peeked out from under the hem. She drew a sharp breath, and he noticed her admiration, grinning and presenting her with a better view. She groaned and licked her lips. He chuckled and returned to the bed, carrying his cell phone. She took it from him and flipped it open to dial.

       "Who are you calling?" he asked.

       "Sam. I need to get my work schedule," she answered, flicking back her hair to put her ear to the receiver.

       "Hmmmm," her Viking replied, and she should have known the sound was bad news.

       Sam picked up on the third ring. "Merlotte's Bar. This is Sam."

       "Hi Sam, it's Sookie."

       "Hey Sookie, how are you?"

       "Oh, I'm fine," she replied.

       Eric gave her a wicked look that chilled her to the bone, and she shook her head emphatically, but of course he wasn't going to listen to her. He leered and shoved her back on the mattress, making her land with a whomp. She gasped.

       "Sookie? You okay?" Sam asked.

       "Oh sure. I'm fine. Great even," she managed.

       Her evil Viking vamp was pushing up her new sweater and suckling her breasts. He'd taken her bra off an hour ago. She gritted her teeth and yanked at his hair, but he didn't even pause.

       "I'm calling to get my work schedule. We're coming back tonight," she managed, squirming as Eric began to kiss her down her stomach. Her free hand was flailing, but he just grabbed it and held it down.

       "Oh, they got the runways cleared off?" her boss asked, a sly lilt in his voice.

       "Y-yes," she stammered. Eric was at her center, cupping her under her hips to tilt her pelvis into the right position. "We got almost... two...  _feet_  of snow."

       "Wow. Did you take pictures?"

       "Y... Yes!" she forced out through clenched teeth. Eric was working his magic with his tongue, and she was finding it impossible to concentrate.  _'Stop it. Stop it. Stop it!'_

_'No. No. No.'_

       "Sookie, are you sure you're okay. You sound really stressed out."

       "I'm fine," she assured him breathlessly. Eric was now using his tongue  _and_  his fingers.

        _'He's my boss!'_

_'And I care about that why?'_

       "Is that blood sucker mistreating you?" Sam demanded. She almost laughed. Eric did, low and soft, his cool breath tickling the skin on her inner thigh.

        _'I dunno. Am I?'_

_'I'm going to kill you!'_

_'Already dead, lover.'_

**_'ARGH!'_ **

       "No. He's been... fine," she answered, bright flashes of light going off behind her eyes.

        _'Just **fine?**_ _'_  He punctuated his thoughts with a wiggle of his fingers.

       "So, when do you have me scheduled?" she pressed, knowing Eric wasn't going to let up, and she wasn't going to be able to hold on to her sanity much longer.

       "I have you working tonight and tomorrow night and Sunday lunch shift," Sam replied.

 _'Hmmm. Shifter thinks he can tie you up all weekend, does he?'_  her personal demon sent, his irritation coming across the bond.

       "But I have Monday off?" she prompted.

       "Yep."

       "Okay."  _'Monday is the day Fangtasia's closed...'_  she offered.

       "So, how was your trip?" Sam asked innocently.

       "Great. It was... uh... great."

_'If you're still coherent, I'm losing my touch.'_

       Eric used two fingers, his thumb and a twist of his tongue. She couldn't hold back the moan.

       "Sookie?" Sam asked.

       Quick as a blink, her Viking grabbed the phone and growled into it. "She's still on my time, Shifter."

       Then he flipped the phone closed, effectively hanging up on Sam, and tossed the phone across the cabin.

       "That was rude," she scolded, trying to be angry when he looked at her that way, with those blazing blue eyes dark with lust.

       "Like I care."

       She would have answered, but he took that moment to thrust into her, making all thoughts fly right out of her head. He rode her hard, staking his claim, as if he was trying to imprint his mark on her enough for even Sam to feel it all the way in Bon Temps. She gasped and writhed under him, lifting her legs up to force him deeper, and that just drove him wild. A few frantic plunges into her brought them both to their peaks, and they both cried out as they climaxed. Eric hung for one moment in suspended animation, then collapsed on top of her.

       "Do you think the pilot knows what we're up to out here?" she mused after they'd rearranged themselves. She was in her usual post-coital position with her head on his chest. He seemed to like that best for après-sex cuddling.

       "Birds of prey have very keen senses," he pointed out.

       "So in other words: yes."

       He shrugged. "It's a good possibility. It's also a possibility that he's drowning out any sound from in here by blasting The Eagles on his iPod."

       She let out a choked laugh and looked fondly at him. "You just said that to make me feel better."

       "Of course."

       "So... I'm working tonight and tomorrow night..." she commented with some regret.

       "Me too. I'm sure there will be lots of things I need to handle that have built-up in my absence."

       "Does that mean you'll be going back to your place after you take me home?" she asked, twirling her fingers in his hair.

       "No. I'll stay with you the rest of the night and shelter at your house. If you work the night shift, you don't have to go in until later, so we'll have a little bit of time before we have to part, and then, per our agreement, I'll come back after Fangtasia closes on Saturday morning, and leave again after sunset Saturday night."

       "Then I'll drive to your place on Sunday after my lunch shift and spend Sunday and Monday with you?"

       "That sounds wonderful. I'll do my best to get all caught up on work so we can have Monday free. I will have to go into the bar on Monday, though, to go through the weekly manifests, but that won't take me long."

       She sighed, the idea of doing mundane, normal things with him sounded appealing. Maybe they'd stay in Sunday night and watch movies on T.V.

       "You're gonna have to give me directions to your house."

       "And a key," he added.

       "I should give you a key to my place."

       "That would be nice."

       "What's your house like?"

       He shrugged. "Simple. Uncluttered. Full of fine quality furniture and modern comforts."

       "Like a fireplace and a sauna," she recalled.

       "Yes. I have a big whirlpool tub too, and a large shower that I think I will have converted into a double."

       "Do that when you have the mirror installed above your bed," she teased.

       He chuckled. "I wonder who will get the most enjoyment out of that. You do so love to look at my butt, my lover."

       She snickered and let her eyes drift down to the curve of his hip. He was still wearing the sweater, and if anything that made him look even sexier with the warm wool covering just enough of him to give a peek at the treasures beneath. He saw where her eyes were focused and obligingly turned his pelvis to give her a tantalizing side view. She showed her appreciation by sliding her hand down to caress his hip, brushing her fingers along his cool skin. She loved the feel of vampire skin; it was silk and smooth marble. Normal skin felt rough and squishy compared to her Viking's hard flesh.

       "I love this," Eric said suddenly.

       "Hmm?" she asked, coming out of her almost meditative state of stroking his skin.

       "You. Me. Just lying here holding each other. I can feel your pleasure at touching me, and hear you compare human skin to mine and find mine more appealing. There's no urgency, no upset, no stress. It's so easy being like this with you."

       And she loved it when he shared with her. It made her feel so valued and important. "I love this too. Can we promise that it'll always be like this: comfortable and easy?"

       "No. I'm in the habit of keeping my promises, and I couldn't possibly keep one as impossible as that. Ask me for the moon and the stars. That would be easier," he replied, his voice resigned.

       She snuggled closer. "Then we'll have to promise to make it like this as much as we can when we're together because the rest of the world is going to make this so hard on us," she said, dread creeping into her voice.

       He pulled her closer and nuzzled her. "I think you are worrying too much. As long as we are together, we will be alright."

       "I'm still scared, Eric. We wouldn't have been given those things if we weren't going to need them."

       "No. But we have them, and we will keep them close at hand, so when we need them we will know what to do."

       She nodded, not entirely convinced but not willing to fight about it. If there was danger, she and Eric had to be on the same page with each other.

       "Maria told me that we are much stronger together than we are apart," he told her.

       "When did she tell you that?"

       "The night of the snowstorm, when she and Izzy stopped me on the porch."

       "Oh." She'd wondered what the Gypsy woman had had to say.

       "She said that no matter what issues we had between us, we'd only find comfort from our pain if we were together. She told me that being apart would be more terrible for us so we had to see a way through our troubles."

       "She's pretty smart, that woman," she commented. "It's funny because I don't think she's much older than me."

       "There are a lot of rumors about her and her companion. A lot of dark secrets and whispers cloud around them. The boy is the focus. There are a lot of people very worried about him," Eric admitted.

       She snorted. "I'll say. I saw him blast fireballs right out of his hands."

       Eric nodded. "Yes. His power is impressive, especially for a child, but his father is infamous in demon circles, and there are quite a few individuals who would like nothing better than to kill Zolan and his son."

       "Izzy hinted at that," she answered.

       "Isabelle is the one to watch. She is the bodyguard. In a fight, she would be the one to do the most damage the fastest."

       She nodded. She'd figured as much. Maria seemed so sweet and kind and loving. It was Izzy who had all the rough edges. She reached over and took Eric's hand, holding it the way the two of them had held hands on that infamous New Year's night when Eric had been cursed. She felt a sudden rush of contented pleasure through the bond and smiled.

       "Of all the sweet things you did for me that night, letting me lie with you and holding my hand brought me the most comfort."

       "I didn't believe it was possible for someone to fall asleep holding hands with a vampire, but we did," she said softly.

       "You were the only thing that was real to me."

       "You said that you were born the moment you were running down the road...

       "And I was a void until you took me in. Yes, I remember," he said wistfully. "I was so frightened running down that road in the dark and the cold. And then, there you were calling to me, reaching out to me. In hindsight, Sookie how could you have been so reckless? A vampire running barefoot down the road in the middle of the night on New Years Eve? Didn't you realize the danger you were in?"

       She shrugged. The conversation was turning much too serious for them considering that he was naked from the waist down and she wasn't wearing any underwear.

       "I wouldn't have stopped for anyone but you. Well... maybe Bill... or Pam."

       He snorted. "I had no idea who you were, woman. I could have torn you to shreds before you had a chance to flinch."

       "I know, but... but I didn't think you'd hurt me. You were so scared and pitiful. I believed you when you said you wouldn't harm me."

       He gave a short, mirthless laugh, and she sighed. "Yeah, I know, it was stupid, but it was you, Eric. I had to stop for you. I couldn't leave you all alone and scared like that."

       Now it was his turn to sigh. "Like you were determined to save both me and the gas station clerk that night we were attacked on the way back from Jackson. Sookie, we need to work on your self-preservation skills."

       "There's nothing wrong with my self-preservation skills, thank you very much. I haven't risked my life for..."

       She stopped. Actually, she had. She'd allowed herself to almost blow up in a hotel to risk saving the very man who was lying next to her. She didn't need to finish her sentence because Eric had already heard and understood.

       "I hate Hallow, you know," he said casually.

       "Well, yeah, you would. She cursed you, tried to take your business, drained Clancy, and got Chow killed."

       "That's true, but I hate her even more now. I hate her so much that, if she weren't already dead, I would hunt her down and kill her very slowly."

       The rush of predatory glee that arced through the bond was unsettling and she shivered.

       "Why?"

       "Because not only did she steal me away from myself, she stole you away from me when her curse broke, and I didn't remember anything that had happened between us. I lost me twice," he answered.

       "Oh." She'd never thought of it that way.

       "There are nights when I am alone and I think on that time. I remember the little, tender things you did. The way you smiled, and the way I felt when I looked at you. She stole that from me: my happiness, my place at your side. I can never forgive her those losses. They struck too deep."

       She rubbed her cheek against his chest and squeezed his hand. "It's okay. We're back together now."

       "But the time we lost, and all of the things that wouldn't have happened if I hadn't forgotten..."

       She shushed him. "We can't know any of that. We can't second-guess ourselves. You may very well have hated loving me and humbling yourself like that. Maybe you would have killed me to erase your guilt."

       He kissed her temple fiercely, the very thought of his harming her making him shiver. "Never."

       She had nothing to say to that, and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She felt safe and cherished, and she closed her eyes, feeling grateful that he'd never given up on her.

       "Thank you for never giving up on me," she whispered.

       "As if I could," he answered teasingly.

       She sighed and tucked her head under his chin. They stayed that way for several long moments, then Eric shifted and gently pushed her away.

       "We should get dressed and put the loveseats to rights. We'll be landing soon," he said sadly.

       She really didn't want to move, but she knew she had no choice. Still, there was one thing she wanted to do before they had to face reality. She pulled him back and kissed him tenderly.

       "Thank you. This trip has been wonderful. You've made me very happy, and I'm grateful."

       He smiled and held her close, letting his joy come across the bond to fill them both. "I don't have words to tell you how happy you've made me."

       "It's okay. We don't need them," she replied.

       "No. We don't." He kissed her long and deep until she was gasping for breath. "I love you."

       "I love you too."

       He gave her a happy grin and released her, sliding off the mattress to reach for his underwear and jeans. He made sure to present her with an excellent view of his backside right before he pulled up the boxers she'd left out for him. She whistled her appreciation and laughed when he grinned at her, giving her one last wiggle of his hips.

       "Anyone ever tell you you'd make a great male dancer?" she commented.

       "Numerous times. However, from now on my strip teases are only for you."

       She raised her eyebrows. "You strip teased for others?"

       He gave her a bland look. "Do you really want me to answer that question, my lover?"

       She thought about it and shook her head. "Nope. Don't wanna know."

       "I thought not."

       "Where'd you toss my underwear anyway?" she asked, locating her bra. It was dangling haphazardly from the back of one of the plush chairs.

       Her Viking cast about for the missing bit of clothing and found it crumpled near the minibar. He brought them to her, but unfortunately they were ripped. She gave him an exasperated look.

       "What is it with vampires and ripping my underwear?"

       He shrugged and looked innocent. "You could stop wearing it all together."

       "You do not want me going into Fangtasia without any underwear on. Every vamp in the place would know I was au naturale in three seconds."

       "True. But seeing their reactions might be fun."

       "For all of two minutes before you started ripping heads off," she commented, wondering what she should do with the torn panties.

       "Allow me," Eric offered, plucking the panties from her fingers. Then she watched as he brought them to his nose and took a deep, satisfied sniff before shoving them down into the crotch of his jeans with a lascivious look on his face.

       She didn't know whether to be flattered or grossed out, but then she settled for laughter because he waggled his eyebrows at her and gave her a wicked grin that was so rogue and so Eric.

       "That doesn't solve my panty problem. All of my underwear is in my rolling carry-on."

       "You didn't put a spare set in your garment bag?"

       "Why would I? We were headed home. If for some reason, something happened to our luggage, I still had lots of clothes at home."

       He considered her answer and nodded, then he brightened and smiled again. "I think I may have the answer to your problem."

       "I'm not wearing a pair of your underwear, Eric."

       "Now that would be something," he quipped, going to the storage closet across from the jet's hatch.

       Per his instructions, both garment bags and his sword in its sheath were in there, and she saw him open an outside pocket on the black garment bag and pull out a plastic shopping bag.

       "What's this?" she asked when he handed her the bag.

       "Something else I bought for you, but didn't have a chance to give you."

       She should have known it was lingerie just from the size and feel of the items in the bag, but she wasn't expecting the delicate silk panties and matching underwire bra. Both were a light pink, almost a blush color, and very soft.

       "Oh," she gasped softly.

       "Pam bought them when she was getting your sweaters. She said they were your style."

       "Pam bought them? She bought my sweaters?"

       Eric looked miffed as if actually going to the store was beneath him. "She merely picked them up for me. I ordered them from a store in Jackson and sent her to get them. She said she'd passed the lingerie department on the way to parcel pick-up and thought you'd like them."

       Hm. More like she was playing a big joke, but that was Pam for you. Still, she couldn't fault Pam's logic. They were just the kind of thing she'd wear.

       "Well, they are very nice. I'll have to thank her when I see her on Sunday. What is she going to think about all of this, anyway?" she said, slipping on the panties but leaving off the bra because she still had the other one.

       "About what?"

       "Us? The blood-bond? How much are we going to tell her?"

       "We don't have to tell her anything."

       She gave him a look. "Eric, she's going to know. Do we tell her about what happened? Do we let her in on the fact that we can hear each other?"

       His face grew hard and stony, and she stopped.

       "We tell her nothing of the mental bond and nothing about the true nature of my Hammer," he said firmly.

       "Won't she recognize it? I mean, I'm sure you showed it to her..."

       "No. Pam never had my confidence or my affection. I never shared anything like that with her."

       "Oh." Well, considering the circumstances of her creation, that made sense. Eric would have sex with her and share his body, including the little trick with the fingers, but he kept his heart locked away.

       "I will tell Pam that we have renewed our bond, although that will be obvious. I will tell her that our bond is very strong and permanent, although that will also be obvious. I will tell her that you are now to be listed as Fangtasia's Events Coordinator and see about getting you on the payroll and our group health plan. And I will tell her that if you are visiting Fangtasia, and my office door is closed while we are in there, that she will suffer slow, painful death if she intrudes on us unless it is a dire emergency."

       They shared a mutual amused look. Both of them knew how much Pam delighted in teasing Eric, and both knew that, without that edict, she would have done everything in her power to interrupt them.

       "You have to let her have a little fun, Eric. She gets so little chance to amuse herself."

       "You are a wicked cock-tease, woman," he chided.

       She spread her legs and encouraged him to kneel between them, taking him by the waist and pulling him closer for a kiss.

       "But don't I always make good?"

       He smirked. "Only recently," he replied, caressing her thigh.

       "If you rip this pair of panties, you will get  ** _none_**  until tomorrow night."

       He looked sulky, but he did slip his hand under the skirt to wiggle the panties down without damaging them. She gave a brief thought to how she'd just put them on, and how they'd already had sex three times on the jet, and how she wasn't going to be able to walk if they did it again and he didn't heal her up with some blood.

        _'Oh, you don't have to worry about that, my lover. I will always take very good care of you,'_  her Viking sent, just before he pushed her back to the mattress and claimed her again.

       Forty minutes later the Learjet landed in Louisiana with nary a bump or a bounce on the runway. By the time the pilot touched the plane down, the cabin had been restored to order, and they were fully dressed and looking for all the world like they'd spent the last two-and-a-half hours playing checkers – except for the fact that her winter hose had been ripped beyond repair and were now discretely stuffed in the lavatory trashcan. Eric still had her underwear stuffed down his pants. Kinky vamp.

       If Perin was aware that they'd been screwing like rabbits for most of the flight, he gave no indication, and he unsealed the hatch and let them out before going to retrieve their bags from the cargo hold. He'd parked the jet in the same hangar it had been in when they'd flown out to Isle Elena, and she was grateful for that because it was cold and, even though her long skirt covered her legs, the lack of pantyhose was chilly.

       "Thank you so much for everything," she said to the birdman as she accepted her cranberry rolling carry-on from him. He hadn't bothered to shift his appearance this time and she took that as a compliment. He bowed his head and gave her a trill.

       "Safe flight back home," she added.

       Eric put his arm around her shoulder and guided her out of the hangar. He had both garment bags slung over his shoulder, and his sword was tucked into the strap on his black bag, which was set atop her rolling carry-on. They smiled at each other as they exited the hangar and made their way over to Eric's Corvette. He popped the trunk and began putting the bags in while she took a deep breath of Louisiana air. Moist and fragrant, even in winter. Nothing smelled like home.

       They had about two seconds of warning. The first thing that happened was Eric's head came up in alarm. The second was she noted that there were six nulls in her awareness. The third was the Thor's Hammer suddenly blazing to life, glowing like a signal flare under Eric's sweater. The next thing they knew, a silver net was thrown over them and they were under siege.

       Of course, none of their vampire attackers had any idea that Eric was immune to silver.

       His big hand knocked her down as he literally shredded the net. Links and bits of silver fell in a metallic rain all around her head as she curled up, protecting her face.

       "What the fuck?..." one cursed.

       "Oh shit! He just ripped the net!" another one cried. "How the hell did he do that?"

        _'How many?'_  her bonded sent, his blip a pulsing ball of bright scarlet and black.

        _'Six!'_

       "Stop babbling and start dying!" her Viking snarled as he threw himself into battle.

       The other vamps had no idea what hit them. A head fell at her feet. She tried not to look into the blank eyes.

 _'Five!'_ her lover announced gleefully.

       Her extra-sharp "danger" sense went screaming into overdrive, and she ventured a glance up in time to see the stake flying through the air.

       " ** _STAKE!_** " she screamed.

       Eric had enough time to turn, and the wood got him in the shoulder instead of his heart. She gasped and covered her mouth with relief as he grunted and yanked it out almost faster than she could see, turning it around and using it to kill another one of their attackers. His aim was true, but there were still four more, and they were coming at them from all sides, and Eric was fighting barehanded.

       His sword. She hopped to her feet, ignoring his command for her to stay down. She saw the hilt peeking out from the sheath there in the trunk, and she lunged for it just as one of the vamps came for her. The moment her hand curled around the ancient handle, she knew what to do.

       With an ease that shocked her, she slid the sword out of its sheath and swung, arcing the blade high and to the right. She felt it hit home, heard the disgusting sound of tearing flesh, and was shocked to see her attacker's head separate neatly from his shoulders in a single slice. Blood splattered on her as the body fell, landing with a dull thud on the asphalt, and she jumped back to avoid the growing pool on the ground.

        _'Whoa, this thing is sharp,'_  she thought, dazed, her fingers loosening on the hilt.

_'Don't you dare drop my sword!'_

       She didn't. Instead she threw it. Eric's hand came up – he wasn't even looking at where she'd tossed it – and snatched the weapon right out of the air. He didn't even pause as he swung, slicing another vamp clean in two before decapitating him on the backstroke. He let out a war cry.

       She'd never felt his battlelust so keenly, but the feeling was overwhelming. He was ecstatic, delighting in the rending of flesh and the heat of war, and she felt the power rushing through her own veins.

        _'Two left!'_

 _'We need one alive!'_  she cautioned. To question, to find out why and how they had been ambushed. Her bonded agreed.

_'Silver chain. Bottom of my trunk. Spare tire compartment.'_

       She frantically dug under the floor covering of the Corvette and found the chain in a cloth bag along with a pair of the necessary handling gloves a vampire would need to protect his skin from the silver. It was heavy, but she was flush with Eric's blood and his strength from the bond. She turned to see Eric fighting both vamps. One had a large knife, a machete from the looks of it, while the other was wielding a long stake, looking for an opportunity. She gathered the chain and threw it at the vamp with the stake; it got him around the neck, knocking him down.

_'Excellent, my lover. Now bind him!'_

       She leaped, grabbing the vamp by the shoulders and wrapping the silver chain around his arms, trying to ignore his screaming and the stench of his burning flesh. Another quick glance to her Viking showed that he had sliced off the hand of his opponent that had been wielding the machete, and his assailant was now attempting to fly away.

       " ** _Eric!_** " she cried, and tossed him the stake.

       Eric grabbed the weapon and threw it with the same accuracy he'd thrown the darts on Isle Elena. The last vamp was disintegrating before he hit the ground.

       It was over, but her Viking was vibrating with rage, the Thor's Hammer still glowing like a beacon under his clothes. He was standing there, half-crouched, holding his sword, fangs down, free hand curled into a claw as he scanned for more enemies. She cast out a mental net and came up with nothing.

       "There aren't any more," she assured him.

       A shriek resounded from inside the hangar, and her Viking vanished. She made sure the remaining vamp was well and truly bound before running to join Eric in the hangar. There they found what she hoped was Perin in his true raptor form, ripping what was left of a seventh vamp to pieces. The bird was monstrous, perched atop the headless body, talons embedded in the corpse as the wicked beak tore huge hunks of flesh off the dead vamp. She'd seen hawks eating rabbits and squirrels. The image was much the same only the victim was wearing black jeans.

       The bird lifted up when it saw them, spreading its wings, and shrieked again. Eric dropped to the concrete floor of the hangar and put up his hand in surrender.

       "We mean you no harm, Perin. We only came to see if you needed our help," her Viking assured.

       Yellow eyes blazed and Sookie prayed there was some cognizance in them otherwise they were both bird food, but Perin backed down and went back to picking at the corpse. Thankfully it didn't look like he was eating the vampire. She didn't know if she could handle that.

       Eric took her by the arm and ushered her out of the hangar, bringing her back to their hapless victim. She could already see some of the things Eric intended to do, and she almost felt sorry for the guy.

       "Who sent you?" her Viking demanded.

       "Go to Hell," the dark-haired, ragged vamp spat.

       Her bonded picked up a handful of the broken links from the net and held them in his palm, then he ripped open the other vampire's shirt and slapped them down on the man's chest. The vamp screamed bloody murder.

       "Silver's not burning you!" he finally shrieked.

       "You noticed that. Funny isn't it? Now who sent you?" Eric demanded again, pushing the silver even harder down. Sookie could see the flesh burning, blackening and steaming. The vamp kept screaming.

       "Who. Sent. You?"

       The vamp set his jaw, which was hard to do with his fangs out, and glared at Eric, defiant. Eric snarled and moved the silver to the vamp's navel. The shrieking commenced again, even louder if that was possible. She put her hands over her ears, her head ringing.

       "This doesn't hurt me a bit," her lover growled. "I can do this all night. Now tell me  ** _who sent you?!_** "

       "Never! You can't break me!"

       "I haven't even begun to torture you. No matter what, asshole, you are going to die tonight. The only say you have in the matter is whether you die fast or slow," he seethed, then he tore open the vamp's jeans and slapped the silver links right on his family jewels.

       The screams echoed off the trees. She couldn't stand it anymore. She crawled over to the writhing vamp and clamped her hands on his head, closing her eyes and reaching the way Izzy had taught her.

_'Eric help me!'_

       She felt his influence flood into her almost immediately, and she felt the barrier yield and break under the assault.

_'I'm in! Ask him! Ask him now!'_

**_"WHO SENT YOU?"_ **

       The face appeared in the vamp's mind even as his mouth refused to answer, and she almost screamed herself.

 _'Victor! It was Victor!'_  "It was Victor!"

       "Victor Madden," Eric sneered, contempt in every syllable.

       "You're not supposed to be able to read vampire minds!" the vamp cried, his brown eyes accusing.

       "Surprise," she answered weakly.

       "Too bad you won't live long enough to tell anyone," her Viking added, then staked the poor vamp so hard the wood drove right into the asphalt.

       She rose to her feet, and they both stood side by side as they watched the body disintegrate. They were blood-splattered and disheveled, but uninjured. Eric was still seething, but he was calming down, his blazing battlerage cooling into cold fury, and somehow she knew that fury was more dangerous than anything.

       The Hammer was still glowing, and Eric reached into his sweater to pull it out and cradle it in his palm. It was still bright silver, the chain around his neck blazing as well, gleaming in the light coming from the lamp above the hangar doors. He brought the Hammer to his lips and kissed it, and she heard him murmur a prayer of thanks to Hlin. Without Her amazing gift, the night would probably have ended much differently and much less happily. As Eric finished his prayer, the Hammer's glow faded and it once again cloaked itself as a pewter pendant on a leather thong. He tucked it back under his sweater and patted it fondly.

       "So? What now?" she asked, shaken and uncertain.

       "Now we find out if Victor was acting on orders of the King or if he was plotting on his own. You didn't happen to get any impressions about that while you were in his head?"

       She shook her head. "No. I'm sorry," she replied, feeling chagrined. She should have thought to look for that.

       Her bonded sent comfort to her. He wasn't angry or disappointed. In fact, he was practically brimming with pride, and it made her feel very good despite her growing fear.

       "That would have been helpful, but it is no matter. I'll find out soon enough," he said with deadly seriousness.

       She took a deep breath and asked the question she didn't really want the answer to. "What do we do if he  ** _is_**  behind it?"

       Her Viking's face went still and hard as marble. "Well, my lover, if that is the case, and the new king is behind this attack... then I'm afraid it's war."

       "How did I know you were going to say that?"

 


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

_Chapter Twenty-One_

       They had a huge mess to clean up because Eric insisted on not leaving any trace of what had happened for anyone to find. They gathered up what was left of their attackers and burned them, clothing and all. Unfortunately, they also found the bodies of two young men behind the hangar. They were both dressed in mechanic's cover-alls with a logo for a fuel company. Eric guessed that they had come to deliver jet engine fuel for the incoming private plane, and had been killed by Victor's assassins as collateral damage. Eric identified both of them as shifters by scent.

       She watched as Eric took a scrap of T-shirt that wasn't covered in gore and used it to carefully wipe the blood off the blade of his sword before sliding it back into its sheath. She remembered all too well how it had felt to wield the blade, and how quickly she had known how to use it.

       "Eric... the moment I grabbed your sword..."

       "I channeled my skill into you," he explained matter-of-factly.

       "So that's how I knew how to swing the blade."

       "Yes. My sword is older than I am. It has been in my family for four generations. I wasn't about to let you handle it without some idea as to what you were doing. You could have damaged it."

       She looked at him through slitted eyes. "Oh, so it had nothing to do with the fact that you didn't want me getting killed by the vamp who was coming after me?"

       "Of course that was part of it, but if you had stayed down like I'd told you to, there would have been no need for you to defend yourself."

       "Eric, you were fighting six vamps without any weapon," she argued.

       "And I was doing quite well."

       She glared at him and crossed her arms. "Fine. The next time we're ambushed I won't bother trying to help."

       He rolled his eyes and smiled at her, taking her face in his hands and kissing her. "You were magnificent. I was glad to have you fighting by my side. There is no one I would rather have watching my back than you, my lover."

       He was being serious so she couldn't stay mad at him, especially when he was kissing her and wishing they could just say to hell with it and go back to her house. She wanted to go back purely to take a shower. Both of them were splattered with vampire blood and guts, Eric worse than her, but her parka, sweater and skirt were splashed with it because she hadn't bothered to zip up her coat after they'd gotten off the plane. Louisiana was significantly warmer than northern Michigan.

       "We need to burn the clothes we're wearing," her Viking told her when he pulled away. "There is vampire blood and tissue on them. No amount of washing will get out the scent."

       She wanted to argue because she liked her new skirt and sweater, but she could understand his point.

       "I will replace your new clothes. I will take note of the designer and find them on-line," he assured her. "And, of course, I can easily get you a new parka."

       She sighed and moved to get the shopping tote with her old clothes out of her cranberry garment bag. Eric was already stripping, tossing his sweater and jeans onto the fire they'd set to burn the remains of the vamps. He even burned the boots he was wearing. She made a silent lament as she threw her new parka into the flames, but at least she had access to her old coat so she wasn't cold. She'd grabbed the four black stones the librarian had given her and shoved them in the pocket of her cranberry coat before she destroyed the parka. She had a feeling she was going to need their protection very, very soon.

       Perin helped with the clean up. The pilot was back in his birdman form, and he and Eric seemed to be able to communicate because they had had a polite argument about whether or not Isle Elena should be notified about the attack. Perin was for but Eric was against. He wanted as few people to know about what had happened as possible. Obviously, Victor would know pretty soon that his attempt on Eric's life had failed, but until they knew how high up the chain of command the order had come from, Eric wanted the details kept a strict secret. Luckily, Perin hadn't seen Eric break the net without getting burned, so the pilot had no idea that Eric was immune to silver.

       "We need to call Alcide about the two shifters. As Packmaster, he ought to know about it, and I'm sure they have kin," she said wearily. Cleaning up after a bloody fight was always exhausting.

       The fire had finally finished burning everything to nothing but black smears and a pile of ash.

       "I will deal with Packmaster Herveaux," her Viking replied, all authoritative and in control.

       Yes, Sir.

       He sighed. "I'm sorry. I am used to giving orders in these types of situations," he explained, half-apologetic.

       She frowned and gave herself a mental slap. "No, it's okay. You're the seasoned warrior here, and you know the proper protocols for dealing with things like this," she conceded.

       "Thank you."

       The emotions across the bond told her that he was acknowledging the progress in her concession, and he was genuinely grateful. Normally, she would have gotten all high and indignant on him, but she was coming to understand the childishness in that. Maybe she was growing up.

       She was surveying the airfield, wondering what was next, when she heard Eric on the phone with Alcide. What the Packmaster was doing awake at almost two-thirty in the morning, she didn't know. Maybe Eric had called on a special line that only rang in emergencies or something, and Alcide had to answer it. Kinda like the Bat Phone or whatever.

       The idea made her giggle a little, and she wondered if she was going into shock now that everything was calmed down. Eric was wondering the same thing. He was also remembering something else... Her face on the street after the Witch War, after he'd turned around had found her missing and had gone rushing after her, following her scent like an abandoned dog desperate to find his owner.

       The feeling wasn't that far off. Eric had felt betrayed and deserted when she'd walked out without telling him she was leaving. It still hurt. She hadn't realized how left-behind he'd felt. He'd been certain that she was going to dump him at any moment. He'd had no idea that she'd been pretty sure she was the one who was going to get dumped.

       "Alcide is in Shreveport. He will be here in an hour," her Viking told her, putting his hand on her shoulder. ' _Are you alright?'_

       She nodded. ' _I'm dealing.'_

       He kissed her temple tenderly.  _'I'm sorry.'_

 _'Not your fault.'_ "So what do we do while we wait for Alcide?"

       He dangled four sets of car keys in front of her nose, three with those handy remote controls that unlocked the doors. "We find our assassins' cars and dispose of them."

       "We have to find them first."

       "I think we will find them nearby. I didn't recognize any of them, which means Victor must have called them in from another territory."

       "Nevada?"

       He nodded. "Possible, or somewhere else. They certainly weren't local."

       "How can you be so sure?"

       He tapped his nose. "They didn't smell like they'd been in Louisiana for very long."

       She blinked, surprised and impressed. "You can smell that?"

       "I have a very keen sense of smell. It's one of my vampiric gifts, and I'm an excellent tracker. Remember that I was able to find where Hallow's  ** _b_** itches had buried Clancy from the faintest trace of his scent. None of the idiots who attacked us had been here long enough for the scent of the swamps to permeate their skin."

       "So you're gonna sniff around for their scents and track it back to their cars?"

       "If I have to, but I was thinking of trying something a little more direct."

       He raised his arm and began pressing the "unlock" buttons on the car remotes. At first, nothing happened, so he began moving about the airfield, pressing the buttons, even taking to the air to get a better view, and after about ten minutes or so they heard an answering series of chirps coming from behind a stand of trees on the south side of the airfield. A quick inspection revealed four cars. Apparently, some of the vamps had carpooled.

       "Okay, so we found the cars. Now what?" she asked, giving one very nice-looking Chevy a good look.

       "Now we take them somewhere where they will never be found."

       "Like you did with Debbie Pelt's car."

       He nodded. "Yes."

       "Swamp?"

       "Yes, but not where anyone would expect to find a submerged car."

       "So not where there are any roads. How are we going to get them there?"

       He raised an eyebrow at her, then demonstrated by  _picking up the Chevy_  with both hands and lifting it over his head.

       "You've got to be kidding me," she blurted. She'd always known that vampires were strong, and they got stronger with age, but her lover had just lifted over a ton of American ingenuity as if it were a really big Hot Wheels toy.

       He set the car down with a whomp and it rocked on its wheels a bit before settling down.

       "Pick-up trucks are a bit harder and minivans can be cumbersome, but I think I've made my point," Eric commented, brushing off his hands.

       Oh, he'd made his point all right. "Okay, so I guess we need to make two trips. I'll follow you as far as the car can go and you take it from there?"

       "No. I need to sink them in four separate places. You will stay here. Perin will guard you until I get back."

       She thought about arguing then decided that it would just be a waste of time.

_'Yes, it would have been, and time is something we are running out of. Dawn is less than four hours away.'_

       She nodded and started back towards the hangar. Eric fell in beside her, and they found Perin refueling the jet from a long tube run from a mid-size tanker truck parked outside the hangar on the side opposite from Eric's Corvette.

       "Perin. I must take our attackers' cars and dispose of them. Please guard my bonded while I am gone. The Shreveport Packmaster is on his way," Eric instructed.

       Perin didn't look too happy, but he did nod and she took that to mean he'd do it. Neither she nor Eric were anticipating any more trouble, but it was nice to know she had a huge hawk demon watching her back if she needed it.

       "Thank you. I will return as soon as possible," her Viking said and vanished.

       "Can I help you with anything?" she asked the pilot, looking for something to do.

       The birdman shook his head and she cast about, taking some time to explore the hangar. There was a big stain on the concrete where Perin had ripped the vamp apart so she scouted around for some cleaning agent she could use to wipe up the mess. She found a locker with cleaning supplies including a mop and a degreaser, and she got to work scrubbing the vampire blood and guts off the floor.

       Keeping busy helped her focus and keep from fretting about what had happened and what Eric was doing. She was tracking him on her mental GPS, and she'd watched him go out and come back three times already which meant he was now out disposing of the last car. He appeared to be getting tired, although she had never realized that vampires did get worn out. It wasn't the same kind of weariness humans suffered from, but it was similar. By the time he'd chucked a VW into the swamp, he was getting fed up with throwing cars. The last car was a Dodge Viper, and he was lamenting about having to destroy it because he thought it was a "sweet ride."

       Perin finished fueling the jet then taxied it out of the hangar and out to the runway. When he came back, he splashed some jet fuel on the pile of gore she was still working on, then he had her step back as he tossed a lit match onto the floor, and the whole thing went up in a big plume of flames. Whoosh! No more bloody mess. Wow, that was easy. Once the fire burned out, all that was left was a scorch mark and a little pile of ash she sucked up with a ShopVac that Perin had found.

       About fifty minutes after Eric had called him, Alcide pulled up with Tray Dawson in tow. Her Viking vamp wasn't back from ditching the last car yet, but she was glad for that because the first thing that the Packmaster did was hug her.

       "What happened? The bloodsucker was pretty vague, but I know the smell of burning vampire," he asked, his face worried.

       She gulped, not knowing how much she was allowed to tell, and grateful that her Eric-GPS had him almost back to the airfield.

       "Eric and I had had just gotten back from a trip when we were jumped by a bunch of vamps while we were loading the car."

       "How many were there? Were you hurt?"

       "Seven, and no, I'm fine. Eric killed five, I got one and Perin killed the other," she replied, nodding her head towards the pilot. Neither Were seemed shocked by the birdman's appearance. "But we found two bodies behind the hangar. Eric says they're shifters."

       "Do you have any idea why you were attacked?"

       She shrugged and played dumb. "No."

       "If you are truly under the formal protection of the new king, then he'll take this as a personal insult and consider it his duty to find out who was behind it," the Packmaster said.

        _'Unless, of course, he was the one who ordered the hit in the first place,'_  she thought dourly.

        _'Say nothing!'_  her vampire warned. He was back in mental range which meant he would be arriving any second. He close proximity was making her relax.

       "Yeah, maybe, but we wanted to keep this real quiet..."

       "Because there might be a traitor among de Castro's ranks, someone who is unhappy that Northman was left in power," Alcide commented.

       She gave a short nod. "Maybe. The thought had crossed our minds."

       "Or maybe it was that were-tiger. Rumor has it that he's not too happy with vampires in general right now, and you used to go with him, but left him for a vamp," Dawson added.

       "I didn't leave Quinn for a vamp," she argued, getting angry.  _'I left Quinn because he gave vital information about vampires I considered my friends to a bunch of power hungry vamps in Nevada and almost got me and pretty much everyone I care about killed.'_ "And I don't think he's mad at me enough to want me dead."

       "Word is you're Northman's now," Tray continued.

       "Did Amelia tell you that?" she snapped, irritated.

       The Were's eyes opened wide and she saw him blink at her, surprised by her sudden outburst. Both of them were thinking that she was a fool to go with a vampire, and Alcide's thoughts were turning decidedly darker and judgmental. It pissed her off because he had no leg to stand on. Eric had been there for her and had stood by her. What had Alcide done? Dragged her into a Pack War – twice – and made excuses for that bitch Debbie Pelt who had tried to kill her – again, twice. He'd left her staked and bleeding in Club Dead, and thank God Eric had been there otherwise she would have died. Eric again. Eric had taken care of her when no one else would.

       "It's none of your business who I go with," she scolded.

       "So the rumors are true then," Alcide said shrewdly, his eyes narrowing.

       "Yes. Sookie is mine," Eric answered, materializing seemingly out of nowhere to enter the hangar.

       He moved to stand at her shoulder, looming and glaring at the Weres. She was ridiculously happy to see him, but she knew from his posture, and the slight flare to his nostrils, that he could smell Alcide's scent on her, and he wasn't happy about it. He was gearing up to get all possessive and dominant, but she was too tired to deal with his shit.

        _'Oh no you don't. You quit it with the alpha male crap and let me handle this. **I'm**_ _used to giving orders in_ ** _these_** _situations,'_  she told him, flinging his words back at him.

        _'Yes, **Ma'am**_ _,'_  he sent back, his thoughts highly amused. She was glad one of them thought it was funny.

       "I am my own woman, as always, Alcide, no matter what he says, but I choose to go with him."

_'Tell him we're bonded. He knows what it means.'_

       "We're bonded."

       Alcide nodded. "I can't say I'm happy about it, but I can't say I'm surprised either." He turned threatening eyes towards her Viking. "You'd best get your shit together and find out what's going on before you get her killed."

       Eric bared his teeth, showing a little fang, and put a possessive hand on her shoulder. She didn't move because she knew she couldn't belittle him in front of the Shreveport Packmaster, even though his action irritated her. She'd get him back for it later.

       "Believe me, I intend to. Now let me show you these bodies so you can take care of them."

       Alcide nodded and the two Weres followed Eric behind the hangar to where the dead shifters were still lying. She trailed along behind, never one to enjoy looking at corpses, but needing to be near Eric. In the distance she heard the roar of a jet engine and surmised that Perin had taken off. He was going back to Isle Elena, back to Helen's little island of peace and comfort. Sweet Jesus, she envied him.

       Neither shifter had been drained, and both had died from a broken neck, probably to hide the fact that they'd been killed by vampires. Alcide and Tray examined the bodies, and they both sighed.

       "You know them?" her Viking asked.

       "Yeah. They're Stan and Robbie Heller," Tray answered. "They run a gas and oil company in Shreveport."

       "Heller's Fuels," she commented, noting the monograms on the shifters' overalls.

       Alcide nodded. "Yeah."

       "They're both members of the were-bobcat community living south of the city. I'll notify their packmaster," Alcide said with a deep sigh.

       "What will you tell them?" she asked.

       "I don't want to get involved in vampire business, but if there is a traitor among Felipe's ranks who is after you, Sookie, then I don't have any choice," Alcide replied unhappily. "Since you and Eric want to keep a lid on this, I'll tell the were-bobcats Stan and Robbie were killed in a robbery attempt. Some asshole who didn't want to pay the high price of gas these days."

       She nodded. "Thank you."

       "I wouldn't do it if you weren't doubly a friend of the pack," he told her.

       "I know. And I'm very grateful."

       "I'm only doing this for her," the Packmaster told Eric.

       Eric crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, his face severe.

       "You know he's no good for you, don't you, Sookie?" Alcide suddenly said, taking a huge risk because Eric was right there not five feet away from them. "Vamps are lying, conniving bastards. It's their nature, and this one is the worst of the worst. He's going to hurt you and probably kill you."

       Eric started growling, but she held up a hand.  _'You let me handle this.'_

       "Alcide," she began, her tone of voice gentle yet commanding his attention. "What I do with Eric is between him and me, and it isn't any of your business. But you are my friend, and your opinion does matter to me, and I want you to know that I understand your concern. You are right. Vampires are dishonest, manipulative, devious, and untrustworthy."

       Eric's fury ripped through the bond but she fought it, forcing him to calm down.  _'You let **ME**_ _handle this!'_

       "But this vampire has proven himself time and time again. He's always been there for me, even when I didn't want him there, even when I rejected him and all but spit in his face. He's always been as honest as he can, which is to say that I know he hasn't always been completely truthful... but only in that he wouldn't tell me the whole story," she added quickly to stave off another growl from Eric.

       "He's given me the things I've needed. He's treated me as if I mattered. He's helped me whenever I've needed him. He's supported me and protected me and saved my life many times. And I love him. It's crazy and it's dumb and it's dangerous, and yes, I will probably end up dead when this is all over, but you can be sure that, if that happens, it'll be because he's already dead, because he'd die before he let anything happen to me."

_'Oh, my lover...'_

       "So really, I don't care that you don't like it. I don't care that you think I'm insane for bonding myself to a vampire, least of all this vampire. And I would kindly remind you that it was  ** _this_**  vampire who stayed by me when I got staked at Josephine's after  ** _you_**  ran off leaving me there bleeding all over the floor, and it was  ** _this_**  vampire who made sure I was safe and saw to it that I got the healing I needed, and it was  ** _this_**  vampire who rescued me when I was trapped in a car trunk with a starving and injured vampire after your ex-fiancée shoved me into that trunk and locked me in," she stated firmly.

       Alcide had the decency to look chagrined, and he cast his eyes downward. "You're right. I'm sorry. That was rude."

       Eric came and stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder. "The lady has spoken, Packmaster, and I think it is getting about time for us to be heading out of here."

       Alcide nodded and sent Tray to get the truck so they could load the Heller brothers into the bed. Eric guided her away from them, taking her back to the forgotten Corvette. He was being gentle and touchy-feely. She allowed it because her little speech had taken the last of her energy and she was plumb worn out. She moved to get into the passenger seat, but Eric stopped her.

       "What is it?" she asked, a little dazed.

       "I must check the car for explosives."

       She blinked, all of her weariness getting squashed by another rush of adrenaline. "What? Like, a bomb or something?"

       "Exactly. One of Victor's goons may have decided to rig my car as an insurance policy in case they were unsuccessful in killing us."

       She gulped and stepped away from the car, her eyes wide. Eric crouched down and started sniffing the car very carefully, crawling all around it and looking under it, then he reached in and popped the hood, examining the engine very, very carefully. He finally made a little grunt of discovery and reached into the engine.

       "Did you find something?" she asked worriedly.

       "Yes. A crude little thing wired into the car's ignition. I thought I'd smelled C-4."

       "Everything okay?" Alcide asked as he pulled up in the pick-up. Tray was following behind in the Heller's fuel tanker.

       "Someone's booby trapped Eric's Corvette!" she blurted.

       She watched as Alcide put the truck in park and jumped out. Tray did the same with the tanker and joined them.

       "What's going on?" Tray questioned just as Alcide asked, "Where?"

       "In the engine, stuck to the back side of the block," her Viking replied, his voice muffled as he leaned into the car.

       "Is it wired into the ignition?" Tray questioned.

       "Looks like it."

       "Why are you all being so calm about this?" she squeaked.

       "Ignition bombs are real easy to diffuse, Sookie," Tray answered.

       "I've got a pair of wire snips in my truck," Alcide said, going to a big toolbox shoved in the rear of the truck bed. She got a quick glimpse of the two bodies under a tarp and gulped.

       Alcide returned with the wire snips, and he handed them to Eric who held out his palm to grab them.

       "How deep is it in there?"

       "Deep," Eric replied. "It's C-4. Whoever it was stuck it way down. Probably thought the oil smell would mask its scent."

       Alcide grunted in acknowledgement, and few minutes later Eric stood up, a mass of white putty balled in his hand.

       "Did you get all of it?" Tray asked.

       Eric didn't bother to grace that with an answer.

       "Is that the bomb?" she questioned.

       "Yes," her Viking replied, then he offered the putty to Alcide. "You want some C-4?"

       Alcide shrugged and took the wad of explosives. "Sure. Thanks."

       "That's a bomb!" she shrieked.

       "Don't worry, Sookie. C-4's real stable. Only way it blows up is if you smack it or jolt it with electricity. My dad used to tell us stories of him and his buddies in 'Nam using C-4 to heat up their rations coz it burns real slow when you set it on fire," Tray assured her.

       "Yeah, until some idiot tries to put out the fire by stomping on it and blows everyone sky high," Alcide added dourly.

       "You're all taking this remarkably well," she complained.

       "This is our life, Sookie. Someone is always trying to kill the ones in power," Alcide explained. "I've had bombs in my truck before."

       "You have?" she blurted.

       The Were nodded and Tray backed him up.

       "I am not upset to find a bomb in my car. What upsets me is that they targeted Sookie as well, and that I cannot forgive," Eric said coldly.

       "No," Alcide agreed.

       "You recently lost your own mate in the war with the St. Catherine Weres, did you not?" Eric asked suddenly.

       Alcide's face darkened and he frowned. "Yes. Maria-Star was murdered by a Were loyal to Priscilla."

       "You have my deepest condolences," Eric replied with complete sincerity.

       "Thank you," Alcide said, looking surprised.

       She was surprised too. Eric didn't usually bother with social niceties.

       "Let's get out of here, lover, it's after 4am," her Viking said gently, offering his hand to her. She set her jaw and shook her head.

       "I'm not getting into that car," she refused.

       He raised an eyebrow at her. "It's perfectly safe now."

       "No. What if they knew you'd smell the C-4 and rigged it with something else figuring you'd think it was safe, and it blows up anyway?"

       "A mercury switch would be harder to sniff out," Tray commented.

       "I don't have time to take the car apart looking for another bomb. It's nearly dawn," Eric argued.

       She could feel his weariness, knew he was getting emotionally tired. Vampires didn't get physically tired, but they did get hungry if they'd been working hard. Eric had killed five vampires, tossed four cars, and dug a bomb out of his Corvette. He was about at the end of his rope. He needed some TrueBlood, some shelter, and probably some sex, not necessarily in that order.

       "I can drive her back home," Alcide offered.

       "And I can come back later with tools and a tow truck. I can give it a good look over and tow it to my place if I don't find anything," Tray added.

       Both Weres were being unusually helpful, and Sookie wondered why either of them would put themselves out to help a vamp.

        _'You have to ask, my lover? It's because of you. They don't give a shit if I blow up, but neither of them want to risk your life,'_  Eric sent, his thoughts amused but tinged with jealousy.  _'And I'd owe them.'_

       "Take her to the Shell truck stop off exit 86 on I-20," Eric said. "I'll meet you there in forty minutes."

       "Cutting it close, aren't you, vampire? Besides, you don't have time to get her home before dawn."

       "We're not going back to Bon Temps. If they followed us here, then they probably know where both of us live. I'm taking her to a safe place," her Viking said firmly.

       "She's safe with me," Alcide argued.

 _'Sookie, please...'_  The mindvoice was weary, on the verge of pleading.

       "I wanna go with Eric, Alcide," she spoke up.

       It looked like he might argue, but then the Packmaster saw Eric taking the luggage out of the Corvette's truck and he got a good look at her Viking's big sword.

       "All right, Sookie, if that's what you want."

       "Yes, that's what I want."

       Alcide cast an unhappy glance at Eric. "Exit 86 in forty minutes."

       "I'll be there," Eric confirmed and flew off carrying all of their luggage.

       "Put Stan and Robbie in the cab of the tanker," Tray said. "I'll take care of them."

       "You gonna bring the bodies to their Packmaster?" Alcide asked.

       Tray nodded.

       "Okay. Tell Bodine I'll talk to him personally later today," Alcide agreed.

       Tray nodded again and the two Weres lifted the corpses of the two shifters and put them in the cab of the Heller's fuel tanker. Thank God it was so cold outside, otherwise they would have started to smell by now. When the deed was done, Tray drove off, and she got into Alcide's truck with him for the forty minute drive up the Interstate.

       "So... everything okay with the Pack now?" she asked, looking for something to say.

       "Yes. Things are settled. I never realized how many of us hated Furnan. I have the Pack's loyalty already."

       "Well, your father was well-respected and everyone knew Furnan cheated to become Packmaster, and he didn't have to kill Jackson, but he did anyway," she commented.

       "Yes, that is true."

       "I'm glad things are working out for you."

       "I'm more worried about you, Sookie. This takeover by the Nevada vamps... I don't like what I hear."

       She sighed. "I won't lie to you, Alcide. It's bad and I'm scared for Eric and myself. After tonight, I'm even more scared. But I have to trust Eric. He knows what he's doing. He's kept himself alive for a thousand years. He's very good at survival."

       Alcide snorted. "Very good at keeping  ** _himself_**  alive, Sookie. If it comes down to you or him, you know who he'll choose."

       She shook her head. "No. Eric and I are blood-bonded. The bond is permanent. If it breaks, he'll want to die too."

       "You sure about that?" Alcide asked leadingly.

       She remembered how Eric had felt when he'd spoken of Svala, and his terrible grief. Eric had said their bond was even stronger.

       "Yes."

       Alcide huffed a bit, but backed off.

       "So where'd you guys go that you were flying back in to the old Lucien airfield in the middle of the night?"

       "Eric took me someplace up north that he knows," she replied, purposefully not speaking of Isle Elena.

       "Nice place?"

       "Oh yes, but we got snowed in. We were supposed to come back last night, but everything was shut down because of the storm."

       "Seriously?" Alcide asked, giving her a glance.

       "Yeah, we got two feet. I've never seen so much snow in my life."

       "Did you take pictures?"

       She laughed. "You're the third person to ask that. Yes, I took pictures."

       "Cool."

       They spent the rest of the trip in small talk. They discussed the weather and the latest gossip. She refrained from telling him that Sandra Pelt was back to her old tricks because that was a situation she was so not willing to deal with right now. Eric would probably take care of her anyway, and a lot less pleasantly than he had when he was rescuing her and Quinn after the Pelts had had them kidnapped.

       It was close to 5am when they arrived at the Shell truck stop off the exit, and she was feeling the effects of the long night again. Luckily, Eric had kept his word, and he was there waiting in the shadows when Alcide pulled in. She practically slid right into his arms when he opened the truck door to help her down.

 _'My poor lover,'_  he sent, nuzzling her as she melted into his embrace.  _'Don't worry. We'll be safe soon.'_

       Eric thanked Alcide and she mumbled a faint "thanks" herself, then she was being lifted into her Viking's arms and taken up into the chill air.

        _'Where are we going?'_  she asked, wrapping her arms around his neck and tucking her face against his shoulder as he tugged up the hood on her coat.

        _'Somewhere safe,'_  he replied.

       She closed her eyes and let him carry her. Tonight his flight was smooth, the only hint that they were moving at all being the wind against her skin. It was peaceful, quiet, and her Viking was enjoying carrying her in his arms.

        _'Rhett and Scarlet,'_  she heard him send.

        _'Have you finally seen Gone with the Wind?'_

_'Of course. It came highly recommended.'_

       She chuckled and tightened her grip on his neck.

        _'I will carry you upstairs to our bed anytime, my lover.'_

 _'It'll have to be at your place because my bedroom's on the first floor,'_  she teased.

_'Less distance to travel then, the sooner I will have you naked and under me.'_

       She felt the rush of lust and shivered.      

       A few minutes later, she felt him land, and she lifted her head as he placed her on her feet. Things were a little dim because it was still dark, but it looked like he'd set down right in front of a little house. It was single story with a one-car garage, a carport and little porch.

       "Where are we?"

       "Technically, we're in Ruston," Eric answered, guiding her up the three steps to the porch and opening the door.

       "Is this your house?" she asked. If it was, it was nothing like what she had expected. But no, it couldn't be his house. This house was brand new, so new that she could still smell the green wood and fresh paint.

       "One of them. I own several," her Viking replied, taking her through the living room. She got a brief look at a nice fireplace in the corner.

       They went past a small open dining room and a kitchen, then down a hallway that ended in a set of three doors. Eric opened the doors to reveal a bathroom, a bedroom, and a larger master suite. The bathroom was small but serviceable. The smaller bedroom was furnished with a Queen size bed and a light colored dresser and armoire, bedside table and a vanity. The master suite was much more masculine with a large, King-size bed and furniture in a deep medium oak. It was into the master suite that he took her. Their luggage was already there on the polished hardwood floor, and his sword was leaning against the high chest of drawers on the far side of the room.

       By now she was nearly dead on her feet, and her lover knew that. He started peeling off her clothes for her, kissing her tenderly, but she gave him a muffled "mmmph" and pushed him away to find the master bath. It was huge, with a big tub and shower. Typical vampire fare. She used the toilet – grateful that there was toilet paper – and washed her face, rinsing out her mouth. She needed a shower, but she knew she'd fall asleep in the stall.

       Eric was waiting for her, already naked, when she emerged, and he took her into his arms again.

       "My lover, I need..." he began, and she felt his desire through the bond.

       They'd survived an attack. They were safe. Now was the time to reestablish their connection. She only wished she wasn't too tired to do it.

       "Oh, Eric. I don't know if I can. I'm so tired..."

       "Shhhhh. Let me take care of everything," he whispered, caressing her arms and sides. "I'll be very gentle."

       Her body started reacting despite her exhaustion, and she groaned in frustration. Her Viking just chuckled even as he began working on her clothes again. Off came her sweater and bra; off came her jeans and boots. Her panties were last, and he laid her on the bed, pulling back the dark colored duvet to set her on the warmer blanket. He kept his word and was very, very gentle. In fact, if it hadn't been impossible to ignore his gracious plenty sliding into her, she would have barely known what was happening.

       Still, the act of joining with him was a profound and moving event, no matter what circumstances, and she found herself clinging to him as he rode her slowly, bringing them both to a sweet and sublime release. He sunk his fangs into the brachial artery under her arm, in keeping with his habit of only biting her where the marks wouldn't readily show, and took a few sips before licking the wounds closed.

       In the aftermath, he gathered her close, tucking them both under the covers, and held her in a protective embrace. She was floating, drifting on the edge of exhaustion and sexual satisfaction when she wondered if she ought to get up to put on a nightgown.

        _'No,'_  her lover sent, his voice a sibilant, sultry whisper in her mind.  _'In my bed you are naked. You may, of course, go to your own room just across the hall, and you may put on a nightgown to sleep in that bed. But here, my lover, I want to feel your skin.'_

       She wanted to argue, but then realized she was just too damn comfortable to bother butting heads with him. He might have enjoyed his victory. He might have even given her nipples a couple of gentle licks to celebrate his win, but she wasn't certain because she was already asleep.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

_Chapter Twenty-Two_

       When she woke the room was dark, but she was sure several hours had passed because she felt somewhat rested. She lay quiet, peering into the darkness, trying to piece together her memories of last night, and she remembered the fight, the clean up, telling off Alcide, and Eric carrying her to a little house in the woods. She remembered having sex with her Viking right before she'd passed out – without getting up for a post-coital wash. Ick. And she hadn't showered to get the blood and vampire guts out of her hair. Double ick. And she'd slept on the new bed and clean sheets, too. Her Gran was rolling in her grave.

       She groaned and shifted, coming aware that Eric was still in bed with her. She was on her back and he was curled against her side, his strong arm resting across her ribcage, just under her breasts. Since it had to be after dawn, he must be in his daytime sleep, but he'd chosen to remain in bed with her rather than seek a safer shelter.

 _'Although, this room certainly is dark enough,'_  she thought. She could barely make out the outlines of the two windows shrouded in thick, light-blocking curtains and room-darkening blinds. Still, it was a big risk. Pull aside those coverings and the sunlight might reach the bed...  _'He must feel perfectly safe here.'_

       She yawned and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, then she stretched, gently removing Eric's arm from across her body and placing it next to her on the mattress. Her Viking didn't budge. Yep, definitely asleep. She could hardly see in the darkness so she rooted around a bit until she found his face and gave him a kiss on his forehead.

       "Sweet dreams, baby," she said softly, then rolled to her back again in preparation for getting out of bed. Shower. Wash hair. Brush teeth. Then what? She wondered what time it was.

_'It's just after eleven.'_

       She squeaked and nearly jumped out of bed, but Eric's hand grabbed her arm and held her still.

       "You're awake!" she blurted.

       "Yes."

       He moved, she heard the rustling of the covers, then a touch lamp on the bedside table closest to Eric came on to its lowest setting, softly illuminating the room without being too much of a shock to her eyes. Her blue-eyed Viking blinked, as if being awake was alien to him – which, of course, it was – and looked at her, a small smirk on his face.

       "How?" she gasped.

       He blew in her direction in answer, and she caught the strong scent of mint.

       "You used one of the mint leaves Eros gave you."

       He nodded. "Yes."

       "How is it working? How do you feel?"

       "Odd. My body knows it's daytime and wants to sleep, but my mind is alert and aware. Eros was right, I am fully functional."

       "Why did you use one? This means we only have four left," she questioned, worried. If Victor was after them, they would need all the help they could get.

       "I deemed it necessary. After last night's attack, I knew I couldn't waste eight hours waiting for nightfall. I've been on the phone since offices opened on the East Coast. I'm setting things in place that, if we have to run, we'll be able to get out of Louisiana fast."

       "How do you know no one was listening in on your calls? Someone knew we were getting back last night. We don't know if whoever it is was intercepting your emails or tapping into Fangtasia's Internet," she said, worried.

       "One of the things I did while waiting for the Were to bring you to me last night was buy a bunch of disposable cell phones. They're not traceable," he told her reassuringly. "Until we know if Felipe is involved, and how deep we're in, we will use them and not our normal cell phones for conversations we don't want traced. We should still use our phones, however, for normal conversations. I want us to pretend as if nothing out of the ordinary happened. Let Victor stew a bit, wondering what went wrong."

       She smiled. Her Viking was proving why he was a thousand years old while many other vamps ended up dead for good before they reached two hundred.

       "Will we tell Pam the truth?"

       "Yes. And Bill. We will not tell them we know it is Victor, that is our secret alone, but we will tell them about the attack. They will also have to move pieces into place if we have to run. If I have to abdicate, they will be prime targets. I would not endanger them more than necessary."

       "Pam, I can understand, but why Bill? I thought you hated him." Not that she was unhappy that Eric was looking after Bill's safety, but it seemed odd.

       "I don't hate Bill. I hate what he did. He usurped my authority and went behind my back, twice. He lied to you and hurt you terribly, twice – no, three times. But he is my subject, and he is loyal to me. I am responsible for him. His computer skills make him very attractive to other kingdoms. If I have to abandon my Area, I want him to be able to find a safe haven outside of Felipe's territory," he said, but she knew that wasn't all of it.

       "And you know I would be unhappy if something were to happen to him," she commented.

       He nodded. "There is that. I don't want you displeased with me because you can make me suffer more than anyone else. And, if he is dead, then I will not be able to lord my victory of winning you over him." He added the last bit with a smug smirk on his face.

       "You  ** _are_**  going to give him a pair of my panties, aren't you?" she questioned unhappily.

       He grinned. "It was your idea, my lover, not mine."

       She rolled her eyes and turned her back to him. "I'm going to take a shower. I'm all scummy. I didn't even have the energy to clean up after we had sex last night," she said, setting her feet on the floor. It was warm. It had to have that radiant heat thing installed under the wood. She sighed with happiness.

       "I cleaned you."

       "You did?" she asked, looking at him. Come to think of it, she didn't feel as sticky or dirty as she ought to down there.

       He leaned back on one arm and gave her an impish smile. "You didn't even budge when I washed you. I've heard of screwing someone unconscious, but that was taking it to an extreme."

       She snorted. "Consider it a testament to your skill in bed," she jibed, rising to her feet.

       He laughed and grabbed her from behind before she'd even heard him move. He kissed her shoulder and pulled her against him, one hand on her lower abdomen.

       "Want company? I can wash your back for you."

       "I thought I was being punished. Two weeks showering alone, remember?" she reminded teasingly.

       "I'm willing to make an exception this one time. It's a new bathroom, never been used. We should... christen it properly."

       "Seriously? You've never used it?"

       He peered at her over her shoulder and nodded. "My first night here was the night before I came to get you for our trip. Before then I'd only stopped here briefly to make sure everything was to my standards," he answered, guiding her towards the opulent bathroom.

       "This is where you were when you got to my house so fast that night."

       "Yes."

       He turned the lights on, including the warm heat lamp positioned above the shower stall, and showed her another switch. "This one turns on the radiant heat in the floor."

       "Oohh, no cold toes in the morning?" she asked happily.

       "Not a single one," he confirmed with a wry smile.

       "Have I told you lately that I love you?"

       "Hmmmm, I think you've neglected to tell me those words for at least six hours," he answered, reaching into the shower stall to turn on the water.

       She sidled up to him, her hands reaching around to cup his butt as she smiled up at him. "I love you."

       He sighed with pleasure and bent down to kiss her. His mouth tasted of mint.

       "That's really interesting," she commented. "What does it taste like for you?"

       "I knew mint from when I was human. We used it in our cooking, and it was good for stomachaches, so this flavor is not unknown to me, but it is still strange."

       "Is it disintegrating in your mouth?"

       He shook his head. "No. It's just sitting there under my tongue."

       "That must feel weird."

       He shrugged. "As weird as having mint in my mouth at all? Yes."

       The water was ready and they both got into the shower. Obviously Eric hadn't had time to put in the same kind of showerhead they had loved so much on Isle Elena, but it did have a handheld massager, and they made good use of that.

       Much to her surprise, while fooling around did happen, they did not make love, and Eric actually rushed the shower a little bit. He explained himself as they were getting dressed, his mood becoming more and more tense as the morning went on.

       "There is much for you to do today, my lover. I am going to need you to go to your house and enlist the help of the witch who lives with you."

       "Amelia?"

       "Yes. We need something that will disrupt an ectoplasmic reconstruction spell."

       She gasped. "So if Victor sends a witch to find out what happened, all he'll get is static."

       He nodded. "Exactly. I can't even begin to tell you the trouble we would be in if Victor discovered the power in my Hammer."

       She gulped, fear making her shiver. Eric's strength poured into her, grounding her and calming her down.

       "Okay. Okay. But how will I get there? Your car is back at the airfield. Do you want me to call her?"

       "No. The location of this house is known only to you and me. Not even Pam knows I have this one," he answered, taking her by the hand and guiding her out of the bedroom.

       There were no windows in the hallway, but she could see light coming in from the front of the house. She remembered Eros's warning about how the leaves would keep Eric awake, but not protect him from sunlight. Elena's ring was supposed to do that, but they knew it would eventually wear off, and they had no idea how long the ring would last. It was best not to use it of they didn't have to.

       "There are blinds on all of the windows," he told her.

       She was already two steps ahead of him. "I'll go close them," she said and moved down the hall.

       Now that it was daytime, it was much easier to see the inside of the house. There was a lovely fireplace in the living room with a white mantle, and everything was done in white trim. The walls were papered with a delicate flower pattern with complementary curtains in yellow, blue and mauve. The couch, loveseat and wide, high-backed chair were floral too, plush and comfortable, and the cocktail and side tables were a warm cherry wood. The whole scene looked like something straight out of the JCPenney catalog. Actually, the whole  ** _house_**  looked like something out of the JCPenney catalog.

       The front and side windows both looked out onto the tall trees that surrounded the property, and she got a look at the diffused sunlight coming through the branches as she twisted the blinds closed. She did the same in the dining room and the kitchen. Both rooms were also picture-perfect representations of a middle-class, Southern home. The dining room set was honey pine with six chairs and a corner china hutch. The kitchen cabinetry was light-colored wood, and the countertops were a tan-colored solid surface. All of the appliances were white.

       The more she looked at it, the more she realized that the house had been decorated to  ** _her_**  tastes because she could not imagine her Viking picking out some of the color schemes she was seeing. The revelation took her back a step or two, but she rallied quickly and finished securing the blinds.

       "Okay. It's safe," she called.

       Eric came down the hall, his eyes a little wide and fearful. He trusted the Goddess to keep Her word, but the very act of tempting the fates was obviously scary for him.

       "Are you okay?" she asked.

       "I haven't been willingly awake in the daytime in a thousand years. No, I am not okay, but I am... alright."

       Still, he kind of scuttled a bit, casting nervous glances at the windows. Maybe he expected the blinds to spontaneously combust and let the light hit him. She wasn't sure. Maybe it was just his own inherent terror of daylight. It had been lethal to him for a thousand years, after all.

       "There's no sunlight. You shouldn't need to use the power in the ring," she assured him as he put himself into the farthest corner of the kitchen, the greatest distance away from the windows and doors.

       He shook his head. "No. One of the reasons I chose this house was because it was surrounded by trees. Very little direct sunlight ever reaches it."

       Okay, that was her opportunity to start asking questions. "Why  ** _did_**  you buy this house?"

       "I am always looking for new places to nest. I buy and sell property regularly. I wanted a house closer to Bon Temps, and I found this one on the Internet," he answered.

       "You went house hunting on the Internet?" she interrupted, a smile on her face.

       "The advent of the Internet revolutionized our lives, my lover. I was able to search for a new house, explore it without ever setting foot inside it, and research its location, tax burden and amenities without ever leaving my office. I was able to contract an inspector, hire a realtor and retain a lawyer to broker my offers, and buy the place pretty much sight unseen."

       He was giving the cabinetry a critical look-over as if the handles on the doors were the most interesting things in the world.

       "It smells new," she commented.

       "Yes. It was just completed two months ago. I bought it a week after it went up for sale."

       "Wow." Two months ago, Eric hadn't remembered their time together. Was he looking to have a place closer to her even before he'd...

       "Yes," her lover replied, reading her thoughts. "I was seeking to be closer to you even then. To be honest, I was planning it in Rhodes, after we'd blood-bonded again, but the hotel bombing postponed my plans for a few weeks. But that worked in my favor, because I would have missed out on this house if I'd started my search earlier."

       "Did you buy it for me?" she asked.

       "Not  ** _for_**  you, no. But I did buy it with you in mind. I thought you would like it as a neutral meeting place that was private and secluded without any roommates to worry about," he admitted.

       "I like how you decorated it."

       He smiled a genuine smile and went to the refrigerator where he took out a bottle of TrueBlood to heat up in the microwave.

       "There's also some food here for you. I grabbed a couple of sandwiches from the deli counter at the truck stop last night."

       She stepped around him and peered into the fridge to find a turkey sandwich and a chicken Caesar wrap.

       "Thank you, Eric," she said, reaching for the wrap.

       "Anything for you, my lover," he said, sipping his blood. She didn't ask him how he was managing to drink and keep the mint leaf under his tongue at the same time.

       "So you bought this house without anyone really knowing," she commented.

       "Yes, I bought it under the alias of Tom Collins."

       She choked on a laugh. "You're joking."

       He shook his head.

       "And no one thought that was strange?" she scoffed, taking a bite of the wrap. It was pretty good.

       "No. I'll have you know that I once purchased a car under the name of Brandy Alexander, and not only did they not figure out I wasn't human, they also never realized that I wasn't female."

       That got her and she almost snorted her food. Eric yanked open the nearest cabinet as she started coughing, grabbed a glass tumbler and filled it with water from the tap.

       "Here, my lover," he said, offering her the drink.

       She accepted it, still coughing a little bit, and took a sip. "Thanks."

       He gave her a little shrug.

       "I don't want to know," she said, shaking her head.

       "It was San Francisco in the 80's. Need I say more?"

       "No," she answered, still chuckling.

       He gave her a smile, finished his drink and rinsed the bottle out in the sink. She polished off her wrap and water.

       "So, how am I getting back to Bon Temps?"

       He motioned towards the door in the kitchen that led outside. She walked over to it and opened to find that it opened onto the one-car garage where a very plain, four-door, dark blue sedan was sitting – all shiny and new.

       "A new car, Eric?" she asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

       "My Corvette is too conspicuous. That is a car that will never turn anyone's head," he commented. "Everything about this place is normal. No one would ever suspect that a vampire was staying here, and that's the way I wanted it to look. Not even the lawyer who negotiated the deal for me knew I was a vamp. He thought I was a wealthy businessman looking to buy property in Louisiana."

       "He didn't have a clue?"

       He gave her a look. "Most humans don't have a clue. How do you think we managed to live among you undetected for thousands of years? The vast majority of you are ridiculously naïve."

       She closed the door and went to stand by him. "If we'd met before the Great Revelation, what would you have done? I mean, I would have known there was something... off about you."

       He dropped his eyes, his emotions suddenly sad and resigned. "Honestly? If I... had suspected that you were a danger to me, I... I would probably have killed you."

       "That's what I thought."

       He looked stricken. "You must understand, Sookie, my lover, that I'd spent centuries in secrecy. I..."

       She put her hand on his lips. "It's okay. I understand. I guess I was really lucky that we didn't meet until after the vamps went public," she said, trying to brush it off.

       "We both were. If I'd have killed you, I would have missed out on one of the greatest things in my life. I'm so glad..."

       He stopped and simply hugged her. She allowed it, feeling his love and turmoil in the bond.

       "It's okay, really."

       He sighed and held her a bit longer before pulling away.

       "Now, you must go, my lover. It might take your witch a little while to make up something that can disrupt the reconstruction spell, and it needs to be done before nightfall. I am sure Victor was expecting some kind of confirmation from his people that the deed was done last night, and he will wonder when it does not come. No doubt he will send someone to investigate. He might even come up to Shreveport himself."

       "What do I tell Amelia? What if she says there's nothing she can do or if she says she has to do it herself? Can I tell Octavia about it too?" she asked, looking up at him.

       "Tell them only what you feel is necessary. If your witch needs help, use your best judgment. I trust you."

       Those words made her shiver, and she was reminded of how she'd felt when Pam had placed an amnesiac Eric in her care. She set her jaw and gathered her courage.

       "Okay. How do I get to Bon Temps from here and how do I get back to the airfield?"

       "There is a map of Louisiana in the car. Bring it to me, and I will show you."

       She went immediately into the garage and opened the car, noting that it was a Ford Taurus and the keys were in the ignition. She retrieved the map from the glove compartment and brought it back in to Eric. When she returned, she found him in the living room, still keeping to the shadows, but scribbling on a notepad that had been kept in a drawer in one of the end tables.

       He'd already drawn a crude map for her, and he spent the next few minutes giving her directions and showing her where the airfield was on the map.

       "Are you comfortable with where you're going?" he asked.

       She nodded, not completely sure, but fairly confident that she wouldn't get lost.

       "All right. It's almost noon. You need to go if you are to have enough time to do what you have to do," he said, clearly not liking the idea of her going anywhere without him, but knowing he had no choice.

       She reached out and took his hand. "It's daytime. I'll be okay. I'll also look into what Tray found out about your car."

       "Please be careful. If you sense anything amiss, any hint of danger, run to where you know you will be safe. Either come here or get to your shifter boss's bar. Both places will be secure," he said, an edge of concern in his voice.

       "Can I tell Sam about what happened?"

       "Only as much as you tell the witch. No matter what, we must leave Victor's name out of it. He must not know that we know he's plotting against us."

       He reached over to the side table and picked up a little, black cell phone. "Here. Use this if you need to call me. I have already programmed the number for my disposable cell into it," he said, giving her the phone.

       She took it and pocketed it quickly. "Okay. Thanks."

       "We cannot be too careful, lover. Victor and Felipe are cunning and ruthless. We must be smarter and faster to keep ahead of them," he warned.

       "Do you really think Felipe would try to kill us even after I saved his life?"

       He shook his head. "I don't know. I have no idea what his motivations would be. He was the one who chose to leave me in place. That makes no sense if he intended to kill me after all."

       "So you think it's Victor acting on his own then."

       "I think that is more likely, although – again – why? He could have rejected my surrender and killed me anyway on the night he had your house surrounded," he wondered, his brows drawn.

       "Witnesses," she pointed out.

       He nodded. "There is that."

       They stood and she took a deep breath, preparing to leave. Eric stopped her and drew her close, his lips pressing against her temple.

       "Dear One, I..."

       "I know. I'm scared too, but we're going to be okay. We can do this," she assured him, feeling his tension and unhappiness in the bond.

       "I will give you all the strength I can. I will be with you as much as I am able."

       "We should see how far apart we have to be before we can't hear each other anymore."

       "Yes, that would be a good exercise," he agreed, letting her go reluctantly.

       She stepped back, lifting up on her tiptoes to kiss him. "I love you."

       "I love you, too, lover. Be brave. Do me proud."

       "I will. I promise."

       With a final kiss, she slipped out of his grasp and headed out the garage door. She didn't look back. She knew if she did, she'd never find the strength to leave him. She pressed a button on the garage wall to open the wide door and got into the car. It started on the first try, purring like a contented cat, and handled like a dream as she backed it out of the garage and carport and turned it around to head down the long, tree-lined driveway.

       In the daylight, she could see that the little house was pale yellow with a tin roof and white trim. It looked like one of those pre-fab houses designed and sold after the hurricanes ravaged Louisiana; little one-story homes that could be constructed in a matter of weeks instead of months. They were ideal, small dwellings that fit right into the Southern landscape with their pitched roofs and wide porches begging for a rocking chair, and this one was no exception. It was the kind of place she might have bought if she ever decided to sell her Gran's house and use the money to buy a newer home, and seeing it choked her up. Eric might not have bought the house for her, but he'd definitely had considered her tastes when he chose it.

        _'Yes,'_  his mindvoice whispered softly.  _'I wanted you to love it. I wanted you to be happy here.'_

_'I do. It's beautiful.'_

       She guided the car down the driveway and turned left at the end as Eric had instructed her. She kept an eye on the odometer, marking the distance as she and Eric maintained contact, checking in with each other every few moments, even falling back on that stupid cell phone commercial.

_'Can you hear me now?'_

_'Yes.'_

_'How about now?'_

_'Yes.'_

       And on and on until he started fading out at about the three mile mark, and they lost contact completely after five. She could still feel him, though, humming along at the back of her mind, his strength bolstering her whenever she started to get the jitters. She merged onto the main road and headed for Bon Temps. It wasn't far, and the house was on the Bon Temps side of Ruston so that made it that much closer. She was turning onto Hummingbird Road in about twenty minutes, and then easing down her driveway a couple of minutes later. She prayed Amelia would be home.

       Amelia was not only home; she came running out the moment she heard a car outside the house. Octavia wasn't far behind her, and both women practically mobbed the car as soon as she got it parked.

       "Tray called! He told us everything! Are you okay? Where did you get this car? Is Eric in the trunk? Where've you been?" her friend exclaimed, taking personal liberties as she checked her for injuries.

       Well, so much for keeping a lid on things. Eric was going to be so pissed, but at least it made life easier for her.

       "I'm fine. The car is Eric's. No, he's not in the trunk. We holed up in a safe place until after dawn, then Eric told me to come here. We need your help," she replied, extracting herself from Amelia's hands.

       "What do you need? A reconstruction so you can identify the vamps who jumped you?" Amelia asked.

       "No. I need something that will keep someone else from casting their own, something that will disrupt the signal."

       "You wanna conceal what happened," Octavia said shrewdly.  _'She already knows who attacked them.'_

       "Yes," she confirmed, answering both of the older witch's statements.

       "Strong electromagnetic fields can disrupt ecoplasmic signals. Some ghost hunters get rid of residual hauntings by putting TVs and speakers and stuff in the room with the haunting and clearing the ectoplasmic field that way," Amelia offered.

       "The area we need to disrupt is a bit bigger than a room," she replied.

       "We need a big electromagnet and some cleansing herbs to clear the area," Octavia announced. "There's a clearing spell we can cast that should wipe out the field completely, so's anyone trying to do a reconstruction would get nothing."

       She gave the woman a huge smile. "That's what we need. Where can we get a big magnet?"

       "Tray'll can probably borrow one from one of the salvage yards he works with," Amelia said. "We need to call him anyway. He has Eric's car at his place. He says it's clean."

       "Did he tell you Eric found a bomb in it last night?"

       "Yeah, but he also said whoever set it was an idiot, and it would never have gone off."

       "The bomb was a  _fake?_ " she blurted.

       "Oh no, the C-4 was real enough, but whoever made it didn't use a blasting cap. C-4 needs more juice than the zap from an ignition switch to set it off," Amelia explained.

       "Oh, so it was a dud then."

       "Something like that."

       "Okay, what do we need? We have to get started. Eric said we need to have the spell cast before nightfall."

       "Before whoever sent the welcoming committee sends someone to find out what happened," Octavia observed.

       She nodded.

       "I've got most of what I need in the house, but we'll need to stop at store I know in Shreveport," the older witch said.

       "And we need to stop at Tray's shop," Amelia added.

       "Then we've got no time to waste," she said.

       Octavia and Amelia ran back into the house to get the things that they needed, and they were on the road to Shreveport in ten minutes.

       "I called Tray," Amelia said as she got into the passenger front seat of the car. "He's going to meet us at the airfield with the electromagnet, but after that we're supposed to go back with him and get Eric's car. He says having a vamp's Corvette sitting at his shop is bad for business."

       "Umm... how about you and Octavia go with him and bring the Corvette to my house? You can drive stick, right?" she answered. "I need to get back to Eric as soon as possible."

       "Umm, sure, if you don't think Mr. Head Vamp is going to mind my driving his precious 'Vette."

       She shook her head. "He'll understand, I'm sure. Thanks Amelia. Thanks Octavia. I owe you both so much."

       "You let us live in your house for a fraction of what you could charge us. We owe you," Octavia argued.

       "Besides, if anything happens to you, we lose our best roomie," Amelia added cheerfully.

       "That's good to know," she joked weakly, merging onto I-20 and heading west towards Shreveport.  She had to keep herself from getting off Exit 86 as they passed it at... well... considerably faster than the allotted speed limit. Thank God both passengers in the car had Wicca Radar.

       "Whoa, Sook, are you channeling Eric or something?" Amelia asked.

       "I'm just anxious. We need to get this done before nightfall. And I have to get back to Eric," she answered, ignoring the digital speedometer on the dashboard.

       There was a moment of silence, then Amelia spoke softly, "You renewed your blood bond."

       She clenched her teeth and squeezed the steering wheel a little tighter. "Yes," she finally answered.

       Amelia sighed. "It's about effing time. Pam's going to be so relieved."

       "You're probably the only human I know who is going to be happy for me."

       The young witch shrugged. "You could do worse, and Eric's really hot. Pam tells me he's amazing in bed."

       She blushed.

       "So did he make a big thing out of it or did he just bite you?"

       It seemed a very personal question and she almost didn't answer it, but she owed Amelia a whole lot, and she knew her friend was just curious. She took one hand off the wheel to pull out the necklace Eric had given her from under her sweater.

       "He gave me this," she said, holding up the pendant so Amelia could see. She saw Octavia lean forward to look herself.

       "Oh wow. Do you know what that is?" Amelia asked.

       "It's the sacred marriage of Freyr and Gerda the Frost Giantess," she replied.

       "It's a goldgubbe. The design is ancient. I wonder how old it is," her friend added.

       "I have no idea," she answered, then pulled into the parking lot of the herbal and natural remedies store Octavia had directed her to.

       She parked the Ford and they got out, going into the store. She wandered the aisles, perusing all the aromatherapy products they had to offer, and taking note of some of them that she might want to buy for her and Eric at a later date. Octavia wasted no time in finding what they needed, and they were back on the road by 1:30pm.

       Tray was waiting for them in his pick-up when they pulled into the airfield, and she was so proud of herself because she didn't miss the turn. The Were got out when they pulled up and leaned against the side of the truck while she parked the car. Other than the four of them, the airfield was deserted, and in the daylight, she could see that the runway looked neglected and invaded with grass in all the cracks.

       "Did you get the magnet?" Amelia asked.

       The Were nodded. "I brought mine from my shop. I have a 12" electromagnet for picking up engines. We need to find somewhere to plug it in."

       "I'm sure there's power in the hangar," she said.

       "I brought a long extension cord," he stated, following her into the hangar.

       "How did the Hellers' Packmaster take the news last night?" she asked, scouting out a power source.

       "Not well. They smelled vamp on them. Your bloodsucker should expect a visit from one of them at his bar pretty soon."

       She cringed. "Okay. I'll tell Eric." It was one more thing she and Eric would have to deal with... later. She found an outlet on one of the walls. "Will this do?"

       Tray shook his head. "Need 220. We need to find the box. There should be a 220 near it."

       They scouted around some more and finally found what they were looking for against the far wall. Tray went out to get his extension cord so he could plug in the magnet.

       While she and Tray were in the hangar, Amelia and Octavia were setting up outside in the area she had pointed out as Ground Zero for the attack. They had Tray put the magnet in the center of the active area, and then everyone had to remove anything that might be magnetic before Tray turned it on. Once they were set, Tray flipped a switch and all hair on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end from the power of the electromagnetic field the thing was putting out.

       Over the course of the next half-hour, Octavia and Amelia cast their cleansing spells and had Tray move the electromagnet around the area where the fight occurred to make sure that all of the ectoplasmic field was disrupted before calling it quits. Both witches were pretty worn out by the time it was all over, and she felt really bad because she hadn't been able to do anything to help.

       "I'm so sorry guys. Really I am," she apologized.

       "Did you send those dead guys after you?" Octavia asked.

       "No, of course not."

       "Then none of this is your fault," the older witch insisted.

       "We need to find out why they were after you, and how they found out you guys were here," Amelia said.

       "Eric and I are working on that, but I want you guys to stay as far away from it as possible, please. Eric is going to have a security company install a new system at the house, and we're going to be spending a lot of time together. You guys are going to have to be okay with that."

       "Hey, I rented to your cousin, Hadley, and I dated Pam," Amelia answered.

       "And I'm a witch from New Orleans. We were up to our elbows in vampires. You'll get no flack from me," Octavia assured her.

       She looked at Tray who shrugged. "Hey, I don't live with you, and I owe you for setting me up with Amelia. I guess the vamp is all right as long he takes care of you."

       She gave him a smile and thanked them all again. "I'll see you all later back at my house, but it's going to be sunset soon and I need to get back to Eric," she said, looking at her watch. It was approaching 4 pm. She'd been gone four hours, and she could feel Eric getting antsy. She gave Amelia and Octavia a hug, then made her good-byes.

       "Have fun driving the Corvette," she called over her shoulder as she hopped into the Ford and took off.

       She could feel Eric's growing excitement as she drove up to I-20, and she pressed a little harder down on the pedal, praying no police officers would try to stop her on her way back to him.

 

888888

      

       When she is gone, he feels bereft. The bond stretches, desperate tendrils reaching out to find his missing half, but he knows she is well out of range now. Her lifeforce still thrums in his veins, though, that part of their connection can never be broken, and he takes some small comfort in that. Knowing she goes off into potential danger without him by her side... that is an agony he dislikes with a passion.

       But Sookie has always gone blithely into danger; even making incredibly stupid choices that put her into even more danger. Like insisting on saving her unfaithful ex even after she'd been staked or trying to save a gas station clerk. Like going to an orgy just to find a murderer and asking an even bigger murderer along as protection. Like holding onto a bomb instead of throwing it at the dead guy or running back into a burning hotel to save even more dead guys. Like coming to get him and Pam instead of escaping herself when the hotel started to blow.

       His Sookie has never thought of herself first. It's what makes it so hard for him to keep her alive. It butts against his own well-honed sense of self-preservation.

       She is so much trouble.

       But he knew that. Possibly even before he'd ever known her name. What had Bill said that first night in Fangtasia when he'd brought his innocent little bird into the bar? "You look like a white candle in a coal mine." Oh how right he had been. Bill'd had no idea even then.

        _'I should have killed her when I had the chance,_ ' he thinks. He can think it now. She won't hear him, won't sense the despair and hopelessness he feels whenever he thinks of her humanity, her mortal lifespan.

       But had he ever been able to kill her or had he been lost the moment their eyes met? He doesn't know, and it doesn't bear dwelling on now. He is in love. He has blood-bonded again. He can only hope that this bonding goes better than the last.

       His well-developed and cultivated pragmatism has rarely failed him. Now that he has surrendered to his feelings, there is no going back, only going forward with Sookie at his side – for better or worse, til death do they part. Yadda yadda and all that human sentimental crap, but it's his life now so he'd best suck it up. And really, he wouldn't change anything anyway.

       Sookie is  ** _his_**  white candle in  ** _his_**  coal mine. She fills the black void Svala left behind, healed the scarred and calloused wound on his heart.

       There were days he'd hated her for that, for making him feel again, for bringing all that pain back up to the surface. He'd wanted to choke the life right out of her for causing him so much turmoil and throwing his well-ordered life into so much chaos, but he hadn't; he couldn't even before she'd tasted his blood, and once she had... even that tiny drop she'd licked from her lips in Dallas had been the beginning of the end. Once he'd known her heart, it was all over. Nothing left but the crying and gnashing of teeth and the eventual capitulation, the acknowledgement that he was helpless against her. The once great Viking brought to his knees by a silly, mortal girl.

       Oh, how the mighty have fallen.

       But it could have been much worse, really. And in the end, he'd won. The little bird is his, maybe not so innocent anymore, but that can only be a good thing. He'll take the blinders off her slowly so she isn't too scared when she sees his true face. Or maybe the truth is she's already seen his true face, and it's the one he's kept buried for seven hundred years.

       Perhaps he is the one who should be scared.

       But he's too happy to be afraid. For all the danger that now swirls around them, he can only be exhilarated by the prospect of fighting with her by his side. She will be his Valkryie, his shining shield maiden, the one who will not shrink from the danger but thrust herself into it. She is already halfway there. Look at her! She stood up in the midst of battle and reached for his sword. She channeled his skill as if she had been doing it all of her life, and she had dispatched her enemy with a single strike. She will be glorious when he is done with her. Mortals and immortals alike will tremble at her feet.

       And on that note, he makes his way back to the darkened bedroom. He knows she will be gone for a time, and, while the magic leaf in his mouth is keeping him awake, his body knows it is daytime and it's confused. His soul shrieks every time he looks at the windows. He admits to being curious, and even a little daring, when he pulls aside a tiny corner of the curtains and blinds on the window and sticks his pinky finger into the light.

       His natural instinct is to run from the brightness, but he makes himself stay still, and he watches in fascination as the sunlight reflects off his white skin. No pansy-ass sparkles here, only the pallor of death, but he laughs anyway, thumbing his nose at the sun and his enemies who are forced to sleep this day in darkness and vulnerability.

        _'I win, you spineless cowards,'_  he says to himself.  _'I'll be the last one standing after the rest of you have turned to dust.'_

       He pulls his hand back and lets the curtains fall into place. He does not know how much power the Goddess was able to infuse into the ring, and he feels he has used it enough for trivial things. He turns from the window and picks up the disposable cell phone. He hates technology, but he loves what it can do for him. He makes a few more calls, moving assets mostly into new accounts under different names – he even sets one up with Sookie named on the authorized users list, just in case. The debit card associated with it will arrive at her house in two days. He'll explain it to her then. She'll balk and get stubborn, but she'll take it once she understands that it is an avenue of last resort. Once he puts it to her that way, he knows she will give in.

       He doesn't care what she does with the money. She could go on a shopping spree and blow the whole wad on shoes, but he knows she won't. He knows if she uses it, it will be for something she needs that she can't get any other way, or because the unspeakable has happened and they have become separated. But he is doing everything in his power to make sure that unspeakable thing does not happen.

       He manages to get in touch with the security company he wants to hire to put in the alarm and monitoring system at Sookie's house. He speaks with someone under the guise of being his own daytime man, Bobby Burnham. He'll brief Bobby later and let him wonder why the call was made in the daytime, or maybe he'll just glamour the man so he doesn't ask questions. Bobby, as a whole, is useful, but he's a bit of a nosy asshole, and he knows from Pam, via Amelia, that the man was rude to Sookie at the airport before the flight to Rhodes. That will be changing very soon.

       As soon as he makes his announcement, anyone who speaks badly of his bonded will be harshly dealt with. He knows some women would let their position as his mate go to their heads, but he knows his Sookie will never abuse her power, and for that he is grateful. It will make demanding loyalty to her easier if she isn't a bitch to his subjects, which she isn't, and most of those in his retinue won't bat an eye when he makes their relationship official anyway.

       When he is finished making his calls, he fishes a whetting stone out from one of the pockets of his bag, then he picks up his sword and slides it from the sheath. He sits down on the edge of the large bed and begins to hone the blade. The action is familiar and comforting, the act of sliding the stone along the edge of the sword is a meditative process for him.

       His father gave him the sword when he became a man. From that moment on he'd been the clan leader-in-training, knowing that someday he would be ruler of their lands. He'd also known, on that fateful day when he and his clansmen had gone off to make war upon the Demon Queen's lands, that it would be his last season as a bachelor. He knew his father was in negotiations with a neighboring clan to broker an alliance-marriage. He'd seen the girl a time or two, and she'd been alright. Big breasted, large hips. His father had said she'd be good for bearing sons. He'd known better than to argue.

       There were advantages to being married, and the alliance would help his father. If he found his wife distasteful, he could always send someone to Birka for a concubine that was more suited to his preferences. So he was willing to do his father's bidding and marry the girl that had been chosen for him, do his husbandly duty and become a father himself, and take on the mantle of a married man.

       He laughs softly. What would his bonded think of all of that? She who loves her freedom so much. She would be appalled to learn that no one had any say in who they married back then. Everything was arranged, and if she thought the world was full of political maneuverings now, well... She had no idea.

       A willful girl like Sookie would have had no place in his world, and her father would have beaten it out of her long before it had had a chance to bloom, probably breaking her in the process.

       He frowns; the image of his Valkyrie broken is unsettling to him. He hopes he will never have to raise his hand to her. He raised his hand to Pam, but he chose punishments based more on humiliation than actual pain. His child was proud, and it hurt her more to wound that pride than it did to break her skin. He remembers spanking her, putting her across his knee to deliver the swats to her bare bottom. He'd done it in front of witnesses, too. The punishment worked to get his point across, but the effect was disturbing. She began bringing a paddle to bed with her, and he'd had no taste for that.

       Individuals who like to be hurt for sex have always bothered him. He will play the dominant if that is what his partner wants, but he takes no pleasure in it. If the punishment ends with a willing feed and sex, then it serves to meet his needs, but it brings him no emotional satisfaction, and he must admit that sex has been disturbingly empty lately.

       Sex with Sookie however... He'd forgotten how wonderful it was to actually  _like_  the person he was with, to smile and laugh and be with someone for more than a single night of brief blood drinking and rough sex. Sookie has reawakened that part of him, and he finds the transition... rocky.

       He knew something profound had happened between them during those days he had spent at her house. While he could not remember the events of those nights, he had felt the difference inside of him. The breaking of the bitch's curse might have wiped his memory of those few days, but the changes wrought upon his soul were not so easily erased, and he could not reconcile what he was feeling with what his erstwhile blood-bonded was telling him. She'd had him in a terrible state, and it was worse when she was rejecting him and flaunting other men in his face.

       Renewing their bond in Rhodes hadn't been something that he'd planned ahead, but he would be lying to himself if he said he hadn't jumped at the chance. By that time, he had already begun to consider Sookie as his in his mind, sifting through his feelings and coming to the undeniable conclusion that she had reached him in ways no one had reached in seven hundred years. He'd already decided that she would be his no matter what he had to do, and binding her to him instead of Andre only furthered his cause.

       If that makes him a manipulative bastard, so be it. He's never claimed to be a nice guy.

       The sword gleams, the razor-sharp edge catching the light from the bedside lamp, and he looks at his reflection in the blade. It is the same face that has looked back at him for a thousand years, forever ageless and frozen in time at the moment of his turning. He hates and loves his maker for that. Only his eyes show his years, and even then only when he allows the mask to slip will someone who is observant enough be able to see the weight of the centuries he carries on his shoulders.

       He gets tired. He admits it. The decades are like an endless road ahead of him that he must walk upon forever and never get to where he is going. For all too long he has walked that road alone, and he wonders how long his bonded will walk with him. To lose her will be a terrible thing. He might not survive it.

       The blade is ready for whatever battles have yet to come. It feels good to hold it in his hand again, and he swings it, putting it through a series of training patterns that have been ingrained in him since he was old enough to walk. He moves with the sword, body and weapon in complete harmony, his muscles straining, his eyes sighted on the tip of the blade. He adds some techniques he learned during his tours of the Orient; flavors of Wushu and Kendo swordcraft that are more like dancing than fighting. His long broadsword is ill suited to the delicate patterns, but he is a big man, and he makes it work with all the vampire grace at his disposal.

       No one would believe he could move so fluidly with the ancient blade. He can hack and slash, but he can also Embrace the Moon and Flick the Black Dragon's Tail, and he does so with a lightness to his feet that belies his large frame. He spins and whirls, cutting off an imaginary foe's legs, and then brings the pommel of the blade up to smash another's jaw, before decapitating a third.

       The pretend battle is exhilarating and he finds himself breathing even though he has no need to. This is his lifeblood: the life of the sword. His people were the Spartans of Scandinavia... without the severe lifestyle and gay sex. The Norsemen loved their beer, their lives and their women. They lived to drink, to fight, and to feel the blood pounding in their veins before they had to spill it on the earth. His dead heart no longer beats, but he still feels the rush of battle, the lust of war.

       He finishes the form with a flourish, imagining Victor's shocked face as he separates his head from his neck. That kill will be most satisfying, although he doubts it will come at the end of his blade at the finale of a long battle. No. Victor's death will likely be done quickly and in secret, but he will savor it all the same.

       The exercise has left him excited in more ways than one, and his bloodlust has morphed into another form of craving. His lover is far away, but he can easily conjure the memories of her lush, fragrant flesh, and his arousal is heightened by the leaf in his mouth. Eros is a god of sex, after all, and the flavor of desire is laced into the mint. The feeling is not unlike the effects of fairy blood, but perhaps his need is not so keen or desperate.

       He remembers the last time he had undiluted fey blood, and what it did to him. He had been at the orgy he had mentioned to Sookie on the night she'd asked him to escort her to hers. He had told her that he'd worn an animal hide, but he hadn't told her that he'd taken fifteen? Twenty? Women that night, some of them more than once, in his fairy blood spurred sexual frenzy. The fairy that had been served up as the donor had fared much, much worse.

       He is well aware that three freeze-dried fae blood pods came home with them from Isle Elena. He knows that they will be almost full potency when they are reconstituted, and he questions the wisdom of that. Perhaps that will be a night when he allows her to bind him so he will not ravage her in his need, although what she could use to hold him down he does not know because his god-touched Hammer renders him immune to silver. Maybe for that one night, he will take it off. If they are safe enough for him to allow her to tie him up, it should be safe enough to set the relic aside.

       The very thought of having her while he is high on fairy blood only feeds his growing need. His bonded will be in for a big surprise once she gets back, but for now he touches himself, teasing his excited body as he stretches out on the mattress. He does not allow himself to climax – that pleasure is reserved only for when he is with his mate – but he plays with his nipples through the fabric of his shirt and rubs his crotch in anticipation of her return.

       He imagines her next to him, her sweet, succulent blood and hot, throbbing flesh. He moans and closes his eyes, replaying any number of heated embraces they have shared, recalling his favorites: the shower they shared, their First Time, their second First Time (Yes, he considers the first time on Isle Elena as a First Time because it was the first time they had both been in their right minds.), the night of their bonding... so many wonderful memories. It's hard to choose which one stirs him more.

       Sex with Sookie is so much more than physical release. It is the completion and perfection of their union, and cuddling with her afterwards is a pleasure in and of itself. Her soft, warm body next to his is a comfort long denied, and he aches for her like he would ache for a missing limb.

       She cannot return fast enough.

       He knows the moment she is on her way back. He can feel her joy and growing excitement. It is late in the day, but still well before sunset. No matter. The leaf is still going strong. He rises from the bed and makes his way out into the hall of the new house. The house he bought to be their sanctuary, the house he knew immediately that his lover would adore, with its metal roof and front porch and comfortable Southern Charm. He'd bought it on the day he'd found it listed on the real estate website. He hadn't even haggled about the price. And he'd used all of his photographic memory of how his bonded had decorated her own home to guide him when he was furnishing the new one.

       She comes back into mental range with a tentative touch.

_'Eric? Can you hear me?'_

       Such a miracle that mental connection. It will save both of their lives; he knows it.  _'Yes, my lover.'_

        _'I'm only five miles away.'_

 _'I await your return with bated breath,'_  he answers, sending her a taste of his desire. He can feel her echoing need in the bond.

 _'I'll be there soon.'_  Even her thoughts are trembling the way her body soon will be under his hands and mouth.

_'I will be here.'_

       Perhaps it is best to take care of business first, before they are reunited and caught up in their passions.

        _'Were you successful in your mission?'_  He suspects that she was because she is happy.

_'Oh yes. Anyone trying to reconstruct what happened will get nothing.'_

_'Excellent, my lover. I knew you would come through for us.'_

_'Amelia is bringing your car to my house. Tray said it was clean.'_

_'You let the witch drive my car?'_

       She feels offended, but her ire only makes him smile.  _'Amelia is a fine driver and Octavia is with her. Your precious sports car will be fine.'_

       He laughs and he knows she can feel his amusement.  _'I will hold you to that, my lover. If there is so much as a scratch or a ding, I shall have to extract compensation from you.'_

        _'Oh, I'm sure we can work out some kind of... payment plan,'_  she teases.

_'Please do not make me wish the witch has a fender bender on the way back.'_

       Her laughter is sparkling joy across the bond.

       He can feel her approach. The bond is singing, and if his heart could beat it would be pounding, but there is something he needs from her, something precious and sacred. He hears the crunch of the tires on the gravel driveway, and he moves into the living room. The house faces East so the afternoon sunlight will be streaming into the clearing through the trees, but it will no longer come in through the front windows and the porch will be shrouded in shadows.

 _'My lover, favor me?'_  he asks, daring to approach the front door.

        _'What is it?'_

_'Park in the sunlight.'_

       He feels her confusion then knows the moment she understands because he senses the rush of surprise and tender affection.

_'Of course.'_

       He waits at the door, listening, and he hears the engine of the Ford turn off as the car comes to a stop, then the creak of metal as she opens the car door. His entire body is tingling, fear and the urge to scream and run make him shiver, but he fights it back as his hand closes on the knob. In a rush, he throws open the door and forces himself out onto the porch. His soul shrieks, but he swallows it, making himself stand still as his eyes adjust to the brightness.

       She is there, standing in the light, the sun is bright on her golden hair, and he is frozen in the shade of the porch, staring at her. She sees him, and she looks as stunned as he is, looking at him lurking in the shadows. Light and dark. Life and Death. The angel and the devil.

       He takes a hesitant step forward, then another. Her eyes open wide with alarm.

       "Eric," she whispers, shaking her head. She is afraid for him, but he trusts the Goddess.

       His foot touches the first step; the sunlight begins some few yards away where the shadow cast by the house ends, and he makes his way down to the front walk, placing one foot in front of the other, slow and deliberate. He never takes his eyes off of hers, and she is pinned by his gaze. She starts to come towards him, but he stops her.

_'No. Let me do this. I must do this.'_

       His soul continues shrieking with every step he takes closer to the deadly light, and he cannot help but feel a little bit of fear. Sookie is horrified, but trying to be brave, and he pauses at the edge of the shadow, his toe right on the brink of the light, then he lifts his arm and extends his hand.

       He can feel the power of the ring flaring. It does not change color as his Hammer does, but he can sense a surge of energy as the protective magic envelops his exposed skin. His bonded gasps as he follows his hand into the light, and he sees tears well in her eyes as she covers her mouth with her fingers. He tries to reassure her with a small smile.

       In the light, his skin is bleached bone white. He will never pass for human, unless he uses the paint women use on their faces to conceal their flaws. He has used this paint before, but not under so harsh a lens. He is so white, he is almost reflective, and his hair catches the dying light, sending off flashes of gold as he turns his head. He finds he must close his eyes as he moves to face the sun. If he could sweat, he'd be drenched, but that part of him died when he was turned. He steels himself and opens his eyes.

       The sun is a golden orb of fire blazing in the late afternoon sky. It should be burning him to a crisp, but he feels nothing more than its warmth on his face. He laughs once, twice, a triumphant laugh as he opens his palms and lets the light pour over him.

       His bonded touches him from behind, and he spins to face her. She is a vision, her face shocked as she touches him, and he cannot help but claim her lips in a heated kiss. She tastes of sunlight. He holds her face, mapping the facets of the light across her skin, drinking in the sight of her like her blood, until her pretty mouth turns into a frown.

        _'Okay, that's enough pushing it for now,'_  she chides.

        _'You are so beautiful.'_

       She blushes, but places both hands on his chest to give him a shove. He laughs but lets her push him back into the shade.

       "We shouldn't drain Elena's ring," she scolds.

       "I want to make love to you in sunlight," he admits, his thoughts turning amorous.

       She is there, her warm, sweet blood calling to him, her heartbeat drumming in his ears. It's a bit too fast. She is still frightened, but also becoming very turned on.

       "Another time. After Victor is dead and we're safe, and if there's still power left in the ring," she states.

       "Why not now?"

       "Because we're in a heap of danger, and we may need that ring sometime soon for keeping you alive."

       He kisses her again, his higher brain functions quickly shutting down in a red haze of lust.

       "When did you become the practical one of our pairing," he complains.

_'When you stopped thinking with the head on your shoulders.'_

       He laughs into her mouth, but gives in. He knows that their time is limited. As soon as the sun sets, they must be on the move: going back to Bon Temps, pretending nothing happened, parting to go their separate ways for a few hours. He will hate to leave her, but Fangtasia calls and, if they are to keep Victor guessing, they must uphold the ruse.

       He is undressing her before they are even in the door, and he is pleased to feel her doing the same. He grips her around the waist, she hooks her legs behind his back, and he carries her to the bedroom. Her only concession to her "no sex in sunlight" edict is she lets him open the curtains and blinds to allow the filtered daylight in. It does not reach the bed.

       But what need does he have for daylight when his own personal sun shines upon him? He ponders this briefly as her skin slides along his own, flushed rose to his bleached white, but then nothing matters because they are one, and all thoughts of daytime fly right out of his head.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

_Chapter Twenty-Three_

       When she woke she was in bed, wrapped in her vampire's arms, and it was after sundown. She had convinced Eric to try to get a little bit of downtime in after they had made love because he had been up all day, and that wasn't natural for a vampire. She knew from Bill that a common torture method used on vampires was to force them to stay awake during the day, and she didn't want Eric to feel all worn out when he had to go back to Fangtasia and be the Big Boss Vamp.

       He was now lying absolutely still next to her, and she was trying to stay still herself so she wouldn't disturb him. She knew from experience that any movement on her part would bring him right out of downtime, but unfortunately, she had an itch and the more she tried to ignore it, the more it made itself known. She was practically biting her lip so she wouldn't move, when her lover made a little noise and scratched the offending spot for her.

       "Oh great, now you're feeling my itches?"

       He chuckled.  _'You were thinking so loudly about it that I had to put you out of your misery.'_

       "I was trying not to disturb you. I'm sorry I woke you up."

       "It's... oh...  ** _yuck!_** "

       She sat up, shocked, as her Viking started gagging, then he jumped out of bed and streaked towards the bathroom in a big blur. The next moment, she heard him retching and making all sorts of unhappy, puke-y noises, and she hurried to go check on him. She found him leaning over the sink, rinsing out his mouth and spitting.

       "Eric? Are you okay?"

_'I'm fine. That damn leaf disintegrated and left a horrible, putrid foam in my mouth.'_

       "Oh. Ick."

       He retched and spit one more time. "Ick doesn't even begin to cover it.  ** _Blech_** _._  Wonderful. Well, Eros always did have a sense of humor."

       He spit again and the disgusted look on his face was so comical that she giggled.

       "What are you laughing at?"

       "Your face reminds me of how Jason's used to look whenever Gran made liver and onions."

        _'Great, now she's comparing me to her greedy conniving brother who tricked her into having to smash Calvin Norris's hand.'_

       She didn't think he'd meant for her to hear that, but she blanched anyway, and he looked sulky.

       "I'm sorry. That was rude and uncharitable. I should not speak... or think ill of your brother," he apologized.

       "It's okay. You didn't say anything that wasn't true," she replied, but the words had still stung a bit. Jason was all she had.

       "No. Jason is not all you have," Eric stated, and she felt how she had wounded him through the bond. "You have me. I will never leave you, my lover."

       She teared up and hugged him, letting her fear and her worries and her pain flow into him so he could soothe her heartaches and make her feel better. His arms wrapped around her and made her feel tiny and protected. Eric was the only man who had ever made her feel that way.

       "If I had known, all those times we talked and never seemed to actually  _say_  anything, that if I'd just hugged you and pulled you to me, I would have given you exactly what you wanted, imagine all of the time we wouldn't have wasted. Who would have thought such a simple thing could move mountains?" he said with a sigh.

       "Mmmm," she agreed, burrowing her face into his chest happily.

       "And I like hugging you. I like cuddling and snuggling and entwining my limbs with yours. I like anything that brings your body into close contact with mine."

       "Preferably naked," she added with a smile.

       "Of course," he answered as if that went without saying, and since they were already naked...

       "How about I get that icky taste out of your mouth?" she offered, smiling up at him.

       "Hmmm. How do you suggest you do that?" he responded, his own lips curling up at the corners.

       She let her hands slide up to cup the back of his neck and urge his lips down to hers. "Like this," she breathed and kissed him long and deep.

       He moaned, and she felt his excitement poking her in the stomach just before he picked her up and carried her back to the bed. He set her down, stealing one more kiss, before giving her a heated look that made her skin flush and kneeling on the floor. A moment later he was kissing her other lips, making her moan and tangle her fingers in his hair. She fell back to the mattress and spread her thighs as he sent her into raptures, and she barely felt his fangs puncture her femoral artery when he claimed his dinner.

       Two or three draws, then a few licks to seal the wounds, and then his hardness was pushing into her and giving her a taste of his brand of dessert. She gasped and shuddered and climaxed as he claimed her lips again, slipping his tongue into her mouth. He'd bitten it, leaking a few drops of his blood into her as they coupled, and he came a moment later.

       In the aftermath, he breathed for her, something he'd only just started doing, probably because he knew she'd like it. He didn't have to. She was getting used to the particular quirks of dating a dead guy, but she appreciated the sentiment.

       "Did you get enough downtime?" she asked.

       He nodded. "Yes. Enough, although I think that horrible tasting foam was meant to counteract any tiredness I might be feeling, so there may have been some method to that particular madness."

       She chuckled. "I must admit, I've never seen a vampire spit before."

       He gave her a wry smile. "It's not something we do too often, but I did appreciate your way of getting the taste out of my mouth."

       "Somehow I thought you would."

       They shared another moment of complete contentment where they simply looked at each other, and contemplated how wonderful the other was, before they both came to the conclusion that they couldn't keep out the real world any longer. It was after five o'clock, and they had to leave their secret hideaway to go back to their "normal" lives, as if anything could be normal ever again after what had happened between them.

       "We should go," her Viking whispered. He always was good at making the unpopular decisions.

       "Yeah," she agreed, looking into his blue eyes. Their heads were on the same pillow, their blond hair meshed together.

       "We can come back here any time. It will be our sanctuary. I will never bring my Corvette here, and I will always pick you up to bring you here, or let you use the Taurus. No one will ever know this place exists. It will be only for you and I," he vowed.

       "I'd like that."

       "Yes."

       One last kiss and they both rose at the same time, each of them reaching for clothes and shoes. She went into the bathroom to do her business, brush her teeth and smooth her hair. Eric joined her after she flushed the toilet, and used her brush on his own hair before tying it back in a long ponytail held at the base of his neck.

       "When do you have to be at Fangtasia?"

       "I left a message for Pam this morning to tell her I would be there by nine," he replied, giving his hair one last look over.

       "My shift at Merlotte's begins at eight."

       He nodded. "We'll go to your house and I will pick up my Corvette to drive it back to Shreveport."

       "Okay. You're coming back to my house tonight."

       "That is the plan."

       She smiled at his use of modern slang. Eric had to be one of the most adaptable vampires she'd ever met. That was probably how he'd managed to live for so long.

       "That and knowing who to kill and who to placate until I could kill them," he added shrewdly.

       "Speak softly and carry a big stick?" she offered with a little smile.

       "Great words of wisdom from a great leader."

       The way he'd said it, she wondered of he'd known Teddy Roosevelt. She looked askance at him, but he just gave her an impish smile.

       They left the bathroom together and gathered up their things. He carried most of their luggage as they headed down the hallway, passing into the living room and out to the front porch. She waited for him as he locked up the house, then they both went to the car and Eric popped the trunk so they could put the luggage in.

       Neither of them was looking forward to having to go back to their lives, and she got the nagging sensation that he was silently begging for her to turn to him and say that she wanted to elope to Nebraska. It was nothing concrete, just a little voice at the back of her mind that was whispering: "Omaha is so nice this time of year..." It made her snicker, and he cast her an inquiring look.

       "It's nothing. I'm just being silly."

       "I've never been to Omaha," he commented, obviously picking up on her mental diatribe.

       "Me either."

       "We should go sometime."

       "Yeah."

       They got into the car, Eric frowning at her as he readjusted the seat to accommodate his long legs.

       "It appears that a midget was driving this car," he complained.

       She snorted. "I'm not that short."

       "If I'd tried to drive with the seat set where it was, you would have had to get me out with a can opener."

       That made her laugh just for the pure stupidity of it, and she couldn't help but grin at him. He grinned and put the car in gear, driving the poor sedan like it was a Maserati. He left a cloud of dust behind them on the gravel driveway.

       The night was clear and chilly, but compared to the icebox they'd just left she thought it was almost balmy out there. Her cranberry coat was almost too heavy for the weather, and she had to smile at that. Eric not only wasn't wearing a coat, he wasn't even wearing a sweater. He had a black t-shirt on that read "Carpe Noctem" on it in gothic script. Paired with a set of black jeans, black boots, and a black belt with a silver-colored belt buckle in the shape of a snake eating its own tail, he was dressed to kill – literally. All he needed to do was strap the sword to his hip and he'd be good to go. She pitied anyone who got in his way tonight. He gave her a wry smile and a rush of warmth came across the bond. He was such a paradox – hard and soft, cruel and gentle, loving and ferocious.

        _'And all yours,'_  he sent with love.

       She blushed and smiled, sending love right back at him.

       Where it took her more than twenty minutes to make the trip from the new house to her home in Bon Temps, Eric made it in fifteen. They didn't speak much on the way. She made some small talk about how he'd managed to get the house furnished and supplied, and he just made a comment about hiring a decorator who was willing to be on hand when the furniture and other items were delivered. She knew that had to cost a lot of money, but she was getting the impression that her Viking was loaded. He must have been putting all that loot he'd pillaged over the centuries into some very lucrative investments.

       Eric's Corvette was parked in front of her house when they arrived, and Eric spent a good five minutes going over every inch of it to look for dings and dents, but found none.

       "I told you Amelia was an excellent driver," she commented, her arms crossed over her chest.

       "I am," her roommate confirmed, coming to stand on the front porch.

       Eric looked up at her with a small scowl and grabbed the keys out of mid-air when the young witch tossed them his way.

       "Here. Tray found this, too," Amelia added, throwing something else, something small and round.

       Eric caught it and snarled when he saw what it was, crushing it in his hand.

       "What was it?" she asked, worried.

       "GPS tracking device. As I suspected, my car was bugged."

       "So that's how they knew how to find us."

       "But not when we were coming back," he commented.

       "That means you have a leak at Fangtasia," Amelia observed, earning her a deep frown from Eric.

       She cringed as her lover turned the same frown her way, and she put up her hands in surrender. "It wasn't me. Tray told them everything before I even got here," she defended.

       "And you conveniently forgot to tell me this?"

       She blanched. "Sorry."  _'We were kinda busy if you remember.'_

       He snorted. "It would do well for you to forget everything you were told and pretend nothing happened," he told the witch sternly.

       Amelia rolled her eyes. "I'm good at keeping vamp secrets, but I'm not the one you need to worry about. Bodine Straley, the packleader of the two shifters who were killed by your vamp attackers, he smelled vamp on the bodies, and he'll be visiting Fangtasia about it soon."

       He cast her another accusing glance. "Something else you neglected to tell me, lover?"

       "Ooops," she gulped.

       He sighed. "Nothing to be done for it now. I will deal with the Packmaster when he comes in. For now, I want to do a careful sweep of the house and property to see if any surprises were planted here."

       "Speaking of planting things," she said, remembering the stones the Indian demoness had given her. "I should look for a compass and bury these like we were told."

       She pulled the four black stones out and held them in her palm.

       "I've got a compass," Amelia offered.

       "Great. I'm supposed to plant these at the four cardinal points around my property."

       Octavia had come out to join Amelia, and now the older witch came down the porch steps to examine the stones in Sookie's hand more carefully.

       "What have you got there?" Octavia asked suddenly.

       She showed the woman the four shiny, black stones that she had been given, and was shocked when Octavia gasped and took a step back.

       "What is it?" she asked.

       "Where did you get those?" the witch demanded, her eyes wide.

       She fought back her sudden fear, glad that Eric was now at her shoulder, alert and on guard.

       "They were given to me. They're supposed to protect the house," she replied, feeling a chill creep up her spine. Eric bolstered her with his strength.

       "They're called Dragon's Tears, and they're not of this world," Octavia answered.

       They watched as the older witch said a few words and ran her hand over the stones, and they were shocked when the stones started to glow red from deep within their centers when she was finished speaking. Unfortunately, Eric's Hammer – tucked under his black T-shirt – began to glow red, too.

       "They're Godtouched," Octavia breathed, then saw the red light coming through Eric's clothing. "What are you wearing, vampire?"

       Eric bared his teeth, his fangs fully down, and growled menacingly. Sookie could feel all of his protective instincts coming to the fore, and she scrambled to get a hold of him.

       "Eric. Eric, it's okay. Octavia and Amelia are on our side," she reminded, putting a restraining hand on his chest.

       His eyes were hard, his face stony, and he growled again, so low and scary that even  _she_  shivered.

       "Eric."  _'Eric!'_

       He glanced her way for an instant, then returned his glare to Octavia who was looking very pale and taking a step back. He began to advance, but she pushed back at him.

       "Eric! Snap out of it!" she yelled, smacking him on the chest.

       He snorted, but did stop trying to move forward.

       "You have nothing to fear from me, Vampire. Who am I to mess with someone who is obviously protected by those far,  ** _far_**  more powerful than me?" Octavia assured them.

       "Are these real Dragon tears?" she asked, turning to face the witch again.

       Octavia looked at the stones with fear. They weren't glowing anymore, and neither was Eric's Hammer, but the witch was still obviously deeply shaken.

       "No. They are a form of Black Tourmaline. Here on our world black tourmaline is a powerful protective stone, but where those stones are from, their power is much more amplified. Plus they're Godtouched, like whatever your vampire is wearing around his neck..." Octavia paused as Eric growled again.

        _'Where did you go, girlfriend, and what did you and the vamp do?'_  Sookie heard Amelia wondering, her thoughts tinged with fear.

       "So that means they're very powerful, right? They'll do what they're supposed to and protect the house?" she pressed, needing clarification.

       "Is that what you were told they would do?" Amelia asked.

       "I was told that they would keep out things that meant me harm, but I had to bury them at the cardinal points around my property."

       "I'll go get my compass," Amelia said, turning and going back into the house without another word.

       Octavia stayed and kept giving them wary looks. The presence of the older witch made her remember something that she hadn't thought of before, and she almost smacked herself for her own stupidity.

 _'Eric... Octavia is staying in my old room. That's the room where the...'_  she sent to him, keeping her face calm and neutral so the woman wouldn't suspect that she and Eric were talking.

        _'The light-proof space under the closet floor is. Yes, I know,'_  her lover answered, his thoughts laced with caution and mistrust. He was still keyed up, his thoughts jumbled as he tried to assess the risks and formulate options. He was thinking so fast it was making her dizzy.

 _'So where will you stay after you get back from Fangtasia tonight?'_  she asked, trying to get him to focus.

_'I'll think of something. You have no need to worry about me, my lover. I've been hiding myself from the sun for ten centuries.'_

       She didn't know if she liked that. The only other place she knew that was safe for a vampire was either at Bill's or in the cemetery.

 _'Maybe we could go back to Ruston...'_  she offered, adding a little bit of memory of how pleasantly they'd spent the late afternoon.

       Her attempt to distract him didn't work, and he almost brushed her suggestion aside.  _'It's an idea. Or just I could. I'm not sure, but I'll work something out.'_

       Amelia came back with the compass. "Okay. I've got the compass."

       "You should probably start with the East position and work your way South, then West, and then North," Octavia suggested.

       "Why?" she asked.

       "Because East is the starting cardinal position in most magics," Eric replied.

       Octavia gave Eric a critical eye. The older witch was thinking that he knew an awful lot about magic for a dead guy. Eric was thinking that Octavia knew far too much about what was going on. She was thinking what the odds were of either one of them trying to kill the other before the night was over.

       Sookie shrugged. "Well, okay. Which way is East?"

       "That way," Eric answered, pointing before Amelia could even consult the compass.

       "Are you sure?" she asked, earning her a "You Win the Stupidest Question of the Year Award"-look from her bonded.

       "I'm a vampire. I always know which direction the sun will be rising from."

       Well, duh. Didn't she feel sheepish? "Uh, right. That was a dumb question."

       Dumb question or not, it had helped to calm him down some, and he wasn't nearly so on edge. He even managed to give her a tiny smile.

       "You think? I'm going to go sweep the area for anything suspicious. You do your stone burying thing," he said, waving his hand imperiously.

       "You should stay within the perimeter of the stones, Vampire, so the protections recognize you as friendly," Octavia warned.

       Eric glared at the witch, his protective instincts rising again, and she hurried to redirect him.

       "Eric, maybe you ought to go tell Bill to come here and be within the protections too. We need to talk to him anyway," she said, giving him a level look.

       "Mr. Compton isn't there," Amelia replied.

       "He isn't?" she blurted.

       "No. He came over while you were gone to tell you he was leaving for South America again. Something to do with more research. He said to tell you he'd be back next week."

       "Did you tell him I'd gone off with Eric?" she asked.

       Her friend shook her head. "I just told him you weren't home, and that you'd be gone for a few days."

       "He probably already knows you're with me," Eric interrupted. "If he was headed out of town, he would have checked in with Fangtasia to let someone know. Ever since the takeover, we've been very... conscientious about keeping track of our numbers. I passed down an edict that anyone leaving the territory for any length of time needs to submit an intention of whereabouts with me. If he went to Fangtasia and found me gone as well, it would not have been hard for him to put two and two together and figure out we'd gone off with each other."

       "Or figured that you'd kidnapped me and dragged me off kicking and screaming to the Great White North to freeze my ass off and get snowed in," she teased.

       He gave her a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. Both of them were hoping that Victor wasn't after Bill too. If he was, it might be too late. She got a little choked up thinking about that, but Eric sent comfort across the bond.

        _'Bill is too valuable. He makes too much money for Victor to target him,'_  her bonded told her with some measure of certainty.

_'I hope you're right.'_

       "I'll be back before you complete your perimeter," Eric said aloud, then vanished.

       Amelia confirmed that the direction Eric had pointed in was indeed East, and the two of them moved out a good hundred yards away from the house before planting the first of the stones.

       "Um, is there anything special I have to do?" she asked the two witches. Octavia had come along, too.

       "Not if you weren't told there was anything specific," the older witch replied.

       She shook her head. "Nope. We were just supposed to bury them."

       "Sookie, what is going on? Who gave you these stones, and what was that thing around Eric's neck?" Amelia asked bluntly.

       "I can't tell you that..."

       "Don't ask questions, girl," Octavia scolded. "I've learned from experience not to go poking around in business like this. It's obvious that someone very high up has taken an interest in Sookie and her vampire, and we'd do best to forget we ever saw or heard anything."

       Sookie had to agree. "Yeah. I'm sorry, Amelia, but the less you know, the safer you are."

        She bent down and used a garden trowel Amelia had brought with her from the back porch to scrape away the top two or three inches of dirt.

       "How deep should I bury it?" she questioned.

       "I'd put them in good and deep," Octavia answered.

       She nodded and turned the trowel tip down to plunge it into the soil, carving out a hole about eight inches deep, then she chose one of the stones and placed it gently at the bottom of the hole, covering it up and patting the soil down firmly.

       "Okay. I guess South is next?" she remarked, standing and brushing off her jeans.

       Amelia consulted her compass. "Yes. This way," her friend replied and began marching off.

       Sookie felt a twinge of guilt at Amelia's anger, but she couldn't feel too badly about keeping the young witch in the dark. Judging by Eric's reaction to Octavia's spell, he wasn't going to tolerate any wild cards when it came to his Hammer. If she hadn't been able to get him to back down, and if he hadn't listened to Octavia when she'd said she knew better than to get involved, Eric would probably have solved the problems of someone knowing too much and someone occupying her old bedroom in one bite.

       He was waiting for them on the porch when they got back from their mission. She'd never been one to get really involved in magic, but something definitely happened when she'd finished burying the last stone in the North position. The moment the dirt covered it she felt a surge of power, like a circuit had been completed and somebody had turned on the electricity. Both witches felt it too, and now they were looking at her with wide, fearful eyes. Octavia was wondering how quickly she could move into her own place, and she wouldn't be unhappy if the older witch wanted out. The woman was staying in the room that held Eric's hidey-hole, and getting rid of her would solve a host of problems.

       Sookie kept her mouth shut, though, not letting on that she could hear the women's thoughts very clearly – much more clearly than she'd been able to in the past. Eric's blood and Izzy's teaching had really made a big difference in how well she used her Gift, but it was stressful for her, and she had to keep trying hard not to give anything away. She knew Eric had to be feeling her tension. He was looking a little stressed himself, and she had to love him for it. He could show his unhappiness while she could not.

       "Is everything alright?" she asked, backing it up with a mental query.

       "Yes. I didn't find anything out of the ordinary, and it appears that no one has tampered with your car," he answered. ' _But I caught the scents of at least two of our attackers at Bill's.'_

       "Do you think someone might have put a tracking device in my car too?"  _'Anyone not accounted for?'_

       "It's a possibility."  _'No.'_

       She looked at Amelia. "Amelia, is there a spell that can be used to see if someone's bugged my car?" She hated to ask when the woman was mad at her, but she really needed to know. Amelia looked like she was going to balk and say something snippy. Eric stood a little straighter, his eyes two slits of blue and his hand clenched at his side.

       "I'll do it," Octavia offered. It was obvious the older woman knew when to rock the boat and when to go with the flow.

       "Thank you, Octavia."

       The older witch nodded and went into the house, presumably to get the things she needed for the spell. Amelia stayed outside, looking a little sullen, while she went up to stand beside her lover. She was heartened when he immediately put an arm around her. She sighed and relaxed against him.

        _'Was Bill there?'_  she asked.

 _'No. And I called Fangtasia while I was scouting around.'_  "I put your luggage in your bedroom," he said aloud.

 _'From your cell phone?'_  "Thanks."

 _'Yes, I was calling under the pretense that I was checking in now that we were back from our trip, and seeing if there were any messages for me. Then I asked about Bill because I'd gone to see him after bringing you home and found him not there.'_ "I also called Fangtasia. Bill left word with Pam that he had been invited back to Peru and would be going on to Bolivia from there. She confirmed that he will be back next week."

       "How are things at the bar?" she questioned.

       "Pam says everything is going well. She is interested in seeing the pictures of the snow."

       "I have some on my cell phone," she said.

       He grinned at her. "Wonderful. Would you send them to me?"

       She gulped. "Um. How do I do that?"

       He rolled his eyes and held out his hand. She frowned and dug into her coat pocket for the little red cell phone he'd given her, and plopped the thing in his palm. He flipped it open, pressed a few buttons, made the thing make a few noises, then, looking mightily pleased with himself, he gave the phone back to her.

       "I like the one you got of me single-handedly fending off five attackers with snowballs," he commented.

       "Oh. That one came out? I thought it would be too blurry."

       He grinned. "I might just print that one and have it framed."

       "You know I'm just worried for you, right?" Amelia piped up, looking furtively at the door.

       Eric pressed her a bit closer, but she softened. "I know. And believe me, if I could tell you, I would, but it really is best for you not to know."

       "All that concerns you, woman, is that Sookie and I are bond-mates now. The bond is permanent."

       Amelia rolled her eyes. "I'm not worried about  ** _that_**. I'm worried about vampires popping up and trying to  ** _kill_**  you."

       "That is an unfortunate reality for a vampire in my position. Rest assured that we are taking strong steps to insure that both Sookie and I will be safe. A new security system will be installed for the house as early as Tuesday, and we are actively pursuing leads as to who and why we were attacked last night," Eric replied, being far more diplomatic than she'd ever given him credit.

       "It can't be Felipe, right? I mean, you're under his official protection, aren't you, Sookie?" her friend pressed.

       She stiffened and she felt Eric's arm around her tighten. "We don't think so."

       "Another state then maybe, or someone from Arkansas who had it out for you from Rhodes?"

       "Those are valid theories, but until we know more, we won't have any idea who's behind it," she said.

       "You shouldn't have crushed that GPS bug. It could have been traced to whoever was monitoring it," Amelia complained.

       "They likely would have hidden their tracks," Eric countered.

       Amelia scoffed. "Not if the same idiots who planted the bug were the ones who made the bomb."

       "What do you mean? Explain," her Viking demanded, and she realized that there was something else she'd forgotten to tell him.

       "Sookie didn't tell you?"

       He gave her an unhappy look. She smiled back sheepishly.

       "No," he answered drolly.

       "The bomb was a dud. Whoever set it didn't use a blasting cap," Amelia said.

       Eric blinked at her, expectant. Amelia stared at him, then clarified.

       "C-4 is too stable to be set off by the electric shock from an ignition switch. You need a primary detonator to set off the secondary explosion."

       "You need something that'll make a big zap from the little zap to make the stuff go boom," she simplified.

       She could almost see the wheels turning behind his eyes as he sorted that out. "Ah. I see."

       "You know, we have progressed well beyond pitchforks and torches," she commented.

       He looked offended. "Of course. I've used modern weaponry before."

       "Oh yeah, like what? A pistol instead of a sword?" she countered.

       "I've used flame throwers... and automatic weapons... and I've even fired a grenade launcher."

       "You've fired a grenade launcher? You couldn't even use my shotgun," she answered incredulously.

       He snorted. "I can use a shotgun just fine. And a grenade launcher's firing mechanism is completely different anyway. Besides, you know I prefer a more... hands on approach to fighting."

       "Yes, you like to be looking in your enemy's eyes when you chop his head off," she stated.

       "Exactly," he said with a proud smile.

       Just then Octavia came out of the house carrying a little bundle of something in a ceramic bowl. She went over to the Buick, which was parked next to Eric's Corvette, and lit the bundle on fire, saying a few words. The smoke wafted up from the burning herbs as Octavia circled around the Buick, chanting, and they watched, waiting for something to happen. Nothing did, and finally Octavia stopped chanting and looked at them.

       "There's nothing here, or, if there is, it's not detectable by my magic," the older witch announced.

       "That means you were the primary target, Eric," Amelia said.

       She gave her lover a worried look, but Eric didn't seem all that upset.

       "I'm not surprised, but it does bring me comfort to know that Sookie was not the one they were after," he replied.

       She laughed mirthlessly. "Not that that would have made a difference. They came after me, too."

       "It's possible that their orders were to capture you. However, we did not give them the chance," he offered. "Your talents and usefulness are well-known. They may have been sent to kidnap you and kill me."

        _'But what would Victor want with me? My services are already his for the asking because he's the King's man in Louisiana,'_  she questioned. "And do what with me? Any vamp who knows me, knows I can't be glamoured."

_'He may want you for himself. If he kills me, you'd be free to bond with another.'_

       The thought chilled her down to her soul, and she felt his love and comfort come into the bond to soothe her.

       "If Eric's dead, then another vamp can claim you," Amelia said, oblivious to the silent conversation going on in front of her.

       Eric made a show of baring his teeth again, fangs down. Amelia stepped back, alarmed, but she only felt protected.

       "I was only saying..." Amelia stammered.

       "I know what you were saying, but Sookie and I are  ** _bonded_**. No one is taking her away from me."

       His firm statement of fact made her feel all warm and gooey inside. It was so much better than him declaring her as "his."

        _'Well... you're that too, right?'_  he asked, a little uncertain.

       She sighed. Vamps and their possessiveness.

        _'In as much as I belong to anyone, yes, I'm yours.'_

       The simple statement made the bond vibrate with happiness.

       "I understand, Amelia, and I thank you for your worry about me, but I'll be okay. We'll be okay."

       "With the power in those stones, someone is doing their best to make sure of that," Octavia commented shrewdly, giving a wary look to Eric, her eyes focused on the lump under his T-shirt.

       She nodded. "Yes. Which is why you don't need to worry about us so much. Let's go into the house. I have to change for work, unpack, and I'd like to get something to eat. Have either of you had dinner yet?" she asked, pulling away from her Viking and entering the house.

       "We had some left over beans and rice, and I think there's some chicken left, too," Amelia answered as they all went through the front door.

       "That'll do. Eric, would you like some TrueBlood?"

       "That would be fine, my lover."

       She heard Octavia's mental wince at Eric's use of the endearment, and sighed inwardly. Both women were going to have to get used to the fact that Eric was her boyfriend – well, she guessed he was a lot more than that – and that meant he'd be around a lot, and they'd be lovey dovey a lot. And if they didn't like it, they could just get lost.

       She and Eric entered the kitchen, and she noticed that while Amelia came in, Octavia opted out. That was fine with her. She rummaged in the fridge and found the leftovers and the TrueBlood. She popped the TrueBlood in the microwave and let it heat while she made up a plate for herself.

       "Want any Amelia?" she offered.

       "No, thanks. I just came in coz I want to hear all about your trip... the parts you can talk about, that is. The snow and stuff," her friend answered, sitting down at the table.

       "Do you have a computer?" Eric asked suddenly.

       Amelia blinked at him, her eyes wide as if his addressing her meant that she'd suddenly sprouted horns.

        _'What are you up to?'_  she asked as she set his blood down for him. "Here ya go, honey."

        _'She is your friend, yes?'_  "Thank you, my lover."

_'Well, yeah...'_

_'And since she is living here for the time being, it would please you if I was pleasant to her?'_

       "I've got a laptop," Amelia answered.

       "Does it have Bluetooth?" Eric questioned.

       "Yeah."

       "Excellent. Bring it here and I will transfer the pictures from our cell phones to your laptop."

       "Wow! Great!"

       Amelia was gone in a flash.

       "You don't have to be nice to her," she said, sitting next to him with a plate of her own steaming food.

       He gave her a smile and waggled his eyebrows at her as he drank his blood.

       "It will make you happy. And she is not unpleasant. She likes you, she accepts us – which will be a rarity, I'm afraid ñ and I owe her a kindness because it was her spell that kept out the Nevada vampires on the night of the takeover."

       She smiled at him, genuinely moved by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you."

       He leaned over and kissed her gently, his lips warm from the heated bottle. "Anything for you, my lover."

       She still got the shivers every time he said that because she knew he was absolutely serious. Kill someone? Sure. Help her dispose of a body? Sure. Financially support her? Just try to stop him. Defend her with his life? Already had, multiple times. Give up everything he'd built in Louisiana to go running off with her? In a heartbeat.

       He smiled, obviously enjoying her mental musings.

        _'Fuck you whenever you want. Go down on you whenever you want. Shower with you whenever you want...'_

 _'Stop that,'_  she scolded, squirming on her chair.

        _'Why? It's fun and it makes you smell wonderful. Finger you whenever you want. Lift your skirt and screw you on my desk. Screw you on this table. In your bed. On your couch. On your back porch. On your front porch. On the lawn. In your car...'_

_'Enough!'_

       He chuckled and let his hand slide down to her thigh.  _'On your boss's pool table. In my house. On my bed. On my couch. In front of my fireplace. In my sauna. In my shower. In my whirlpool tub...'_

_'Eric! **Please!'**_

       She was sure he would have continued, but Amelia got back with the laptop, and he turned his attention to beaming the pictures they'd both taken with their camera phones to the computer. She was relieved because any more and her friend would have returned to find her screwing a vampire on the countertop.

        _'Pity she came back so quickly...'_

_**'Eric!'**_

       He grinned, all innocence and charm, and she wanted to knee him in the balls. But then she was smiling, too, because he'd transferred the photos, and they were all looking at them on Amelia's computer. Even Octavia came in to see the piles of snow. Apparently, Eric had taken quite a few pictures with his camera phone at some point during their stay – maybe while she was sleeping – and he had almost all of the big snow sculptures and the big snow slide, and pictures of the lodge all covered in snow, the warm light from inside spilling out of the windows. Amelia and Octavia ooohhhed and ahhhhed.

       The pictures of the snowball fight were the funniest. She had indeed managed to get a really great shot of Maria, Izzy, Vincent and the two foxes all ganging up on Eric, and Eric looking like he had just won the lottery, he was so happy, as he reared back in the snow, fangs down, hands full of snowballs. He was right. They ought to print that one out and have it framed.

       "Kitsune," Amelia commented, but that was all that was said about Keno and Rori's fuzzy tails.

       "I know that woman," Octavia said, focusing on Maria. "Her name is Maria Piazzi. She is... very Gifted. She was there where you were?"

       She looked at Eric and saw him give her a little nod before she answered, "Yes. Maria and her family were there."

       "Did she share her Gifts with you?" Octavia asked carefully.

       She nodded. "Yes, and she'll be visiting Fangtasia in the spring. April sometime she said."

       The older witch looked shocked. "She will?"

       "Yeah, I'll be sure to let you guys know when."

       "This place looks really wonderful," Amelia commented.

       "It was. We had a cabin in the woods. It was really private and beautiful. Everyone was so nice and the food was out of this world," she agreed, and she was off, talking about the island and the lodge.

       She didn't mention anything secret about it. She didn't tell them about Helen or the chapel or the fact that the place was owed and run by Supes. She only said it was a resort on Lake Superior, and let them make what they would of that. They seemed enthralled by her descriptions of the lodge and the spa, and wanted to hear everything about the roses and candy and the day spa Eric had given her.

       Poor Eric was soon drowning in a sea of estrogen, but he was a trooper and stuck it out. He was looking decidedly traumatized, however, by the time it was seven o'clock and she had to get ready for work. He followed her to her bedroom and sat – more like lounged actually – as she changed into her winter Merlotte's uniform.

       "We've got ten minutes. That's time enough, isn't it?" he asked with a leer.

       "Ah, no," she answered.

       "But you're already partially undressed..."

       "No," she stated firmly, but kissed him as she pulled on her long crewneck shirt. "We'll have plenty of time later. When we're both off work."

        _'Did you want to go to the house in Ruston to insure privacy?'_  he asked.

       She sat on the bed beside him and gave him a coy look.  _'That might be... nice.'_

       He reached over and took her by her sides, kissing her as he pulled her down on top of him. She moaned as he used all one thousand years of kissing experience to try to get her to change her mind.

        _'Is it working?'_  he asked.

       It took all the willpower she had, but she did force herself to pull away. "No. Sam will be really mad at me if I'm late for work on my first day back from vacation."

       He sighed and cursed her shifter boss, but let her go because she promised to make it up to him later.

       "What will you do after I leave for work?" she asked.

       "Well, I was planning on bringing the Taurus back to where it belongs, but since we're going there later, I'll just leave it here and go directly to Fangtasia," he answered.

       "Okay. And I'll see you around 3am?"

       He gave her a wicked grin. "Earlier if I can manage it."

       She smiled. Knowing him, he'd be at her house within thirty minutes of Fangtasia closing its doors. He smirked and preened a bit.

_'There is a reason I drive a sports car.'_

       She laughed and leaned towards him as he cupped her face and gave her a very tender kiss.

       "I love you, my lover," he said.

       "I love you, too, baby."

       "Hmm, I think I may come to like your pet names for me."

       "How about: my hunka burnin' Viking and his gracious plenty of luvvv?"

       He threw his head back and roared with laughter, and she laughed with him, then got off the bed and put on her sneakers.

       "I gotta get going," she said, looking nervously at the time.

       He rose to his feet and walked with her out to her car.

       "If you sense anything amiss..." he began.

       She stopped him. "I will call you. I promise. I will not take any chances. I will not go out of Merlotte's by myself. I will tell Sam about the attack. I will be on double guard until we know what we are up against."

       "Or who," her lover added.

       "Or who."

       He kissed her again, and she felt his reluctance in the bond. Neither of them wanted to leave the other, especially with the uncertainty of danger lurking in the darkness.

       "I love you. Please be safe," he whispered.

       "I'll do my best. Please call me when you get to Fangtasia. I want to know you got there safely."

       "I promise. I will make the call all lovey dovey so whatever soon to be dead asshole who might be listening in will have no idea we're on to him, and he will be so shocked when I rip his trachea out of his throat when I finally hunt him down."

       She sighed. Only Eric could put that particular feeling of excited glee on the prospect of ripping out someone's throat.

       "I'm sure."

       "I will find out who is behind all of this," he vowed, looking directly into her eyes.

       She nodded. "I know you will, and I'll help you as much as I can."

       "I know. In the meantime, you know what you need to do."

       She pursed her lips and took a deep breath. "Yeah."

       He kissed her one final time and stepped back. "I will see you in less than eight hours."

       "I can hardly wait."

       "I will make our reunion very sweet indeed."

       His voice was pure sex when he said that, and her knees almost went to Jell-O, but somehow she managed to force herself into her car so she could go to work. She watched him in the rear view mirror as she drove away, standing perfectly still under the security lights, his face serious and resigned, until she turned the bend and couldn't see him or her house anymore.

       His mind brushed against hers a few more times before they went out of range, and she knew the moment he'd gotten into his Corvette and was driving towards Shreveport because she could feel the distance between them getting wider. The bond ached with the pain of separation, but she swallowed her sadness and made herself focus on the job she was going back to. It was Friday night. Merlotte's would be hopping. She hoped she would be too busy to worry about her Viking, and that the night would fly by until they could be together again.

       The last message she got from her lover was an image of him laid out as a buffet for her, covered in h'ordeurves and chocolate sauce. She gulped and shivered, gripping the steering wheel almost hard enough to turn her knuckles white. Two a.m. couldn't come fast enough.

 


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

_Chapter Twenty-Four_

       He's given her even more of his blood, and whether she realizes it or not, every drop he gets into her veins is another thread tying them together. Pretty soon it will be far too late for her to disentangle herself from him, and their bond will be one of the strongest in vampire history. Perhaps even  ** _the_**  strongest, but since he has no intention of discussing exactly how strong their bond is with anyone, there is no way for him to really know. Regardless, he knows he is being devious by not being completely forthcoming with her, but that is his nature. She will learn that all too soon.

       She thinks him tame. She isn't nearly as frightened of him as she ought to be, although he dislikes the scent of her fear very much, but fear of him, and of all his kind, is necessary until she joins their ranks. As long as she is human, she is fragile. He will do what he can to keep her safe, but there are limits to what he can do with a mortal body. He fears for her every single night, especially if they are apart.

       The downside of her having so much of his blood is he now feels the distance between them all the more keenly, and he wonders how long it will take for her to realize that their "range" has been extended. He was looking at the odometer while pinging her mind, testing the strength of their connection like a submarine tests the depth of the water, and they lost mental contact at seven miles. Earlier it had been five. A few drops of his blood has gained them two miles, and he wonders how much blood he'll have to give her to make it reach all the way from Bon Temps to Shreveport.

       He feels the bond stretch as the tendrils reach for each other across the gulf, and he is rather oddly reminded of the figure skating contest where points are taken off when the pair gets too far apart (back in the days before The Great Revelation, he watched a lot more TV than he does now.) The judges wouldn't be happy with them at all right now. There is a chasm between them, and it's getting wider. It makes him edgy. The part of his brain that is pure animal is snarling and trying to force him to turn back. The mate has been left behind, and that is not to be tolerated. They are much stronger together than they are apart, especially when there is danger... and there is such  _danger_. He downplayed it so as not to frighten her, but he knows they are in peril, and his wild side wants her where it knows she can be protected.

       He must work quickly and formulate a plan of attack. He already has some ideas, ideas he knows his bonded will not appreciate too much, but she will have to get over it. Their survival depends upon them acting as one. They will have to lure Victor close enough for Sookie to read his mind, and they will have to do it in such a way that Felipe's henchman doesn't know what's happening. He can think of one or two scenarios where such closeness would be warranted. He doesn't like any of them, but there are sacrifices that must be made, and getting vengeance will be all the sweeter if there are more transgressions for him to extract pain for.

       The veneer of civility begins to peel away more and more the further he gets from his bonded, and the closer he gets to his livelihood. He has many businesses, but Fangtasia is his life's blood, his precious brainchild that he nurtures. It will hurt him if he has to abandon it, but what can be built once can be built again. This is a lesson he has learned many, many times. But for now he is still in charge, and the Sheriff of Area Five is about to make his triumphant return.

       By the time he parks the Corvette behind the bar, he is ready to assume the mantle of The Master. He frees his hair from its binding, letting it fall loose like a lion's mane around his shoulders. Freeing it frees himself, and he shakes his head, setting his jaw as he opens the car door. He can almost feel the earth shudder as he sets his booted foot on the ground, and he scents the air like a tiger sniffing for prey as he unfolds himself from the driver's seat.

       He gives the poorly lit service parking lot a critical eye, all of his senses on high alert, and he thinks he can smell one or two of the stupid vampires who had attacked them, their scents lingering near the employee entrance. His takes another breath, running the air through his nose, picking apart the odors like individual threads in a braid of rope: rotting garbage (rancid milk, moldy bread, rotting deli meat, an infant's dirty diaper,) stale liquor (beer, tequila, Southern Comfort,) someone has urinated against the dumpster (male, early twenties, deeply inebriated,) someone has vomited on the asphalt (peanuts, crackers, cheap American beer,) a vampire has fed against the back wall (Maxwell Lee on the little waitress - what was her name? Vicky? Vivian? Vixen? Whatever. He'd have words with both,) someone is wearing too much perfume (Tabu – how original.)

       He sifts through the scents, cataloging and discarding anything that he associates as "normal," and concentrating on the unfamiliar. A new dog is digging in the trash. There is a new employee at the card shop. The owner of the beat-up Chevy parked behind the new pizza place will need to replace his radiator soon. It's what he doesn't smell that makes him relax. No strange vampires (except those he has already killed.) No gunpowder. No explosives. No unidentified chemicals. No strange Weres or shifters sniffing around.

       He gives the parking lot one last look over, then he closes the Corvette's door with a careless push, hearing the locking mechanism and the security system engage as the latch clicks home. He uses his remote to pop the trunk, lifting out his soft-sided black bag and his sword. He slides the sword in its sheath through the looped handles of the bag, and slings the whole thing over his shoulder, before pushing the trunk lid closed and turning for his bar. His hand is upon the plain grey door, and he throws it open, striding into the narrow corridor with purpose. It is exactly 8:58pm. He's two minutes early.

       His office is to the right. Its door is closed. The bookkeeper's office door is open, as is the storage room door on the left. The heavy steel door at the end of the hall is closed, but he can hear the sounds of the bar in full operation just on the other side. There are two waitresses chatting in the storeroom.

       "So then I told him he could just take his $70 dollars and kiss my ass," one says.

       He thinks her name might be Kelsey or Missy. Turnover at Fangtasia is so heavy, he barely has time to learn their names before they are being fired or quitting. Most fangbangers want to work for vampires, but soon learn that it isn't all it's cracked up to be.

       "You're joking. I would have kneed him in the balls and taken the money," the other waitress replies. That one he knows. She goes by the very apropos name of Elvira.

       Before she has a chance to admit to any more larcenous tendencies, he is standing in the doorway of the storeroom, looking at them, his hands on either side of the frame. They notice him immediately and drop to their knees on the floor. It is a very... satisfying feeling.

       "Master Eric!" Elvira gasps, keeping her head down like a good minion.

       She is well endowed, and her breasts bulge forward against the low-cut neckline of the dresses Fangtasia's female employees wear. There was a time when the view would have pleased him, but now it only serves to remind him that his mate (and her own considerable endowments) are far away. It does little for his already on-edge mood.

       "Isn't there something the two of you should be doing other than gossiping in the storeroom?" he asks coldly.

       "Yes, Master Eric. Mistress Pam sent us in here to get supplies to restock the public restrooms and the cocktail napkin holders," she answers.

       He snorts. "Then I suggest you get to it."

       "Yes, Master Eric," they both say in unison.

       He grunts a little and turns away, moving to open his office door. Behind him, he hears their nervous tittering as they scramble up off the floor.

       Humans. Oh, for the days when he could just use them as he pleased and break their necks when he was finished with them.

       But if he is honest with himself, he does admit that there have been a few mortals who have been worthwhile. The race as a whole is full of useless sacks of blood, but every now and then there is one or two who prove to him that not all is lost. They are few and far between, but he has fond memories of at least four humans without whom his life would either be non-existent or much poorer. And, of course, he's had two beautiful and brave bondeds who've made his life worth living.

       His office has been undisturbed since his departure except for the stacks of mail piled on his blotter. There are two neat piles: one for Fangtasia issues and one for Sheriff issues. The Fangtasia issues are items that need his approval or input regarding the bar. Pam and Clancy handle the vast majority of the day-to-day minutia of managing Shreveport's premiere vampire bar, but that doesn't mean there aren't things he needs to sign-off on or make a final decision. Most urgent appears to be approval of the final design of the "Fangtasia's Vampire Hunks" calendar for next year, and a reminder of his appointment to have his new nude portrait done on Monday. He smiles. His mate has Monday off. He will have her accompany him to the shoot and get her expert opinion on what poses are best.

       The idea of having his bonded present while the photographer is taking his portrait significantly improves his mood, and he smiles to himself, remembering that he promised to call her when he arrived safely at the bar. He pulls out his cell phone and hits her speed dial number. She is number 4, after Fangtasia and Pam. She answers on the fourth ring, and he can hear her rushing to get out of the noisy dining room of Merlotte's Bar.

       "Eric?" she asks breathlessly.

       "Yes, it is I, my little, scrumptious éclair," he answers, keeping his word to be nauseatingly saccharine.

       "Ugh. I'm guessing that you're calling because you got to Fangtasia safely?"

       "Of course I did, my dear, yummy sweetums."

       He hopes whoever is listening in on their conversation is revolted, because he finds the banal sweet-talk patronizing.

       "Okay, now that was truly scary."

       "You can handle me when I am chopping heads off and throwing them across a room, but you can't handle me when I'm throwing every disgusting, sickeningly sweet pet name I can think of at you? What is wrong with this picture?" he comments, smiling into the phone.

       Hearing her voice fills him with happiness, but also sets fire to his groin, and he wonders when the edge will finally wear off, when he will not crave her so voraciously. To be honest, he is looking forward to it because his desire is often... distracting. He will welcome the deep, abiding bond that will replace the heady rush of passion and sexual need. They will always want and delight in each other, but the urge to fuck constantly will dial-down to a low roar. He thinks that will be a relief for both of them; not that he won't enjoy it immensely while it lasts.

       "I expect you to throw heads. I do not expect you to call me sweetums," she deadpans, but he hears the smile in her voice.

       He laughs. "No, of course not. Well, I am sorry, my most beautiful princess, but I must get to work."

       "Me, too, or Sam'll growl at me," she whispers back.

       He growls. "You tell that shifter if he so much as lifts a lip at you, he will have me to deal with."

       "He won't growl if I get off the damn phone and do my job," she grumbles at him, but that only makes him smile more. "I'll see you after work?"

       "Of course."

       "Okay. Love you. Bye."

       "I love you too, my lover. Good bye."

       She is the first to hang up, but he gets the impression that she is worried she is slacking in her job, and his bonded is nothing if not hard working. In this, they are very much alike because he is also hard working, although he is not a workaholic like some others he knows. He learned how to balance work and play a long time ago.

       He places his bag on the floor, allowing his sword to lean against the side of the desk in an easily accessible position as he sits down in his comfortable "I am Sovereign of this Domain" chair. He presses the power switch on his computer, and begins to sort through the piles while he waits for the technology to start-up. The Fangtasia things are little more than items that need his signature, although he sets aside one or two items for closer inspection.

       He has not seen any of his underlings, although he is sure the two waitresses have reported his presence to Pam. He does not expect her to come running, but he suspects she will wait a respectable amount of time and then present herself. He knows that she is aware of his preference for a few minutes alone to sort through the evening's affairs before being disturbed. He reminds himself that the necklace he bought for her is in the pocket of his bag.

       The Sheriff things are a bit more complicated. Any vampire wishing to move into his territory or seeking employment or wanting to start a business has to go through him, and he receives about a dozen or so requests and notices a week. All of them require his full attention, so he puts them aside for a while as he checks his email. There isn't much waiting for him. He corresponds with only a select few individuals. Most vampires his age shun technology and have minions use the machines for them so they do not send emails. He thinks that they don't know what they are missing by not taking full advantage of the Internet, and all the varied information and services it offers.

       Case in point, the house he purchased in Ruston. That is an investment that has already paid off in spades. His mate loves their little nest, and he is sure she will show him how much she appreciates his thoughtfulness many, many times. He gives himself a mental pat on the back for  ** _that_**  one, but then the study of Sookie Stackhouse has been a hobby of his ever since he watched Bill Compton brushing her hair. He feels he knows her tastes fairly well by now. At least, he has heard no complaints.

       His email alert chimes to tell him that his mail has finished downloading, and he skims the subject lines. Most of it is junk, but some pertains to his financial affairs. With the advent of on-line banking, he has been able to oversee his own fortune, and take its management out of the hands of too easily corrupted mortals. He's had to kill more than one accountant for embezzling, and that can get messy, not to mention that it's a huge inconvenience. Now it is so much easier to do it all himself, and with an eye that's seen just about every trend there is to be seen in capitalism, he's outpaced the national average in earnings almost every year since he's been doing it on his own.

       He peeks at his earnings statement and smiles, his fangs running down a little in his excitement.  _'Talk to Chuck? I think not. Talk to **Eric**_ _. You'll do better,'_  he thinks smugly.  _'Maybe I ought to open my own investment firm.'_

       He goes through the process of taking half the dividends and reinvesting them in a separate account with Sookie's name on it. Whether his bonded likes it or not, he  ** _will_**  see to her financial future, and he will insure that she will never have to worry about property taxes or health insurance ever again. Very soon he will make his announcement of their bonding, and his mate will be officially put on the bar's payroll.

       In preparation for that, he opens a web browser and does a quick search for the item he has in mind for his bonded to wear both for his pleasure and as punishment for her keeping secrets. She will be surprised to learn that the idea was hers to begin with. She will have to learn not to stimulate his imagination if she does not want him to act on his fantasies.

       He finds the dress he wants in short order. It is scandalous, but perfect. His mate will complain very much, but he knows he will win the argument because she is a woman of her word, and she agreed to the terms of her punishment. She will be a blazing queen among the peasants when he shows her off. Every vampire in the state will envy him and want what he has, but he'll kill any that even look at her inappropriately.

       He hums with satisfaction as he chooses the correct size and color, and clicks the magic button to order the item. He is already hard, his fangs down, in anticipation of not only getting her into the dress, but also getting her  ** _out_**  of it, and the heady prospect of violence when he reveals her in her glory is exciting, too.

       But there is an ulterior motive to what his mate will surely think is madness. He will have to invite Victor to the announcement as the King's representative. With Sookie in that dress, she will be too alluring for Victor to resist. As a higher ranked vampire, Victor will be allowed closer access. Closer access will mean he will be well within range of Sookie's Gift. He will give her blood that night so she will be at her peak, and she can glean the thoughts right out of Victor's head while the other vampire is ogling his mate's breasts. He will allow it, because it will make gouging Victor's eyes out later that much more satisfying.

       Further down in his inbox is an email from the photographer on Isle Elena. The resort employs a fulltime man whose sole duty is to take portraits and candid photos of the guests as keepsakes. While he and his mate were on vacation, the photographer took two pictures of them: one of them in the Great Room on the night of the piano concert, and one on their last night on the island, in front of the snow covered lodge. The email contains the proofs for his inspection, along with package costs and ordering instructions.

       He clicks on one of the attachments, and is presented with a high quality image of him and his bonded sitting on one of the loveseats in the Great Room. His mate is curled up next to him with his arm around her, and they are both looking perfectly happy and at peace. It is the kind of photograph human women seem to fawn over, and he must admit that it is a nice image.

       He clicks on the proof for the second picture and finds a photo of the two of them in their now burned to ashes clothing. They are standing by the big prow windows that overlook the lake; she is pressed to his side, looking happy, her hand resting lightly on his chest, and he has a winsome smile on his face. It is sweet and quaint, and he knows his bonded will like this one as well.

       Seeing the photos does stir feelings inside his dead chest, and he thinks he is beginning to understand the human need to record their memories for later viewing. So few of them have the complete recall vampires seem to be gifted with. Still, he almost wishes he'd had the forethought to have the photographer come to the cabin on the night of their bonding. It would be nice to have a keepsake of her in the blue dress and him in his Viking regalia.

        _'Well... that's what digital cameras and self-timers are for,'_  he thinks, imagining a re-enactment in the near future.

       He clicks to order 8x10s of both pictures and has them shipped directly to Sookie's house along with a dozen red roses. She will like that. Human females love that sort of thing, although he has never understood their infatuation with dying flowers, but he supposes he is lucky that his mate is fond of dead things – himself most of all.

       Pam appears at his shoulder. He knew she was coming down the hall, but he was too busy enjoying himself to acknowledge her. He does so now with a look. She nods her head.

       "Eric," she says.

       "Pam," he replies. There really isn't anything else to say.

       "You look well."

       "I am well. There is a present for you in the outside zippered pocket of my bag," he tells her.

       She raises an eyebrow at him, but goes to retrieve her gift. If she wonders why there is a Viking broadsword leaning against his desk, she keeps her questions to herself. He hears the zipper pull, then the crinkle of the paper sack as she pulls out the jewelry box. There is silence.

       "Does it please you?" he asks.

       "Yes."

       He looks up to see that she has already put the necklace on. The gold and deep red go well with her black dress, and he smiles. She returns his smile and comes to stand by his side again.

       "The Sheriff of Area One, Victor Madden, has been trying to reach you. He has called twice," his child informs him.

       He thinks on this, wondering what it means. Was Victor checking up on him? He knows he informed the king's rep, Sandy, of his vacation plans, so Victor had to have known he was not there. It rankles him to have to submit for vacation time approval, but that is his reality now, and, as the only Sheriff kept on from the old regime, he knows he is on probation. It is best to play along until he can better his position.

       "I do not know why. I submitted my vacation plans to the King's area representative as per the new protocol. My time away was approved and filed," he answers blandly. "Did he say what he wanted?"

       "No." Her voice has taken on a suspicious lilt, and her face grows a little stony. She has picked up on his caution, and she does not like what it means.

       "Then I will call him back later."

       "You said there were pictures of the snow?" she asks, changing the subject. Neither of them enjoys speaking of the new world order, or at least the new Louisiana Order.

       "Yes. I sent them all to myself earlier today," he confirms, looking for the subject line in his inbox.

       He closes the email from the photographer and opens the one he sent to himself with the images from both his and Sookie's camera phones. Soon he is scrolling through about two dozen images of varying quality featuring the snow, the snow sculptures and the lodge. Pam laughs at the one of him under siege.

       "Did you kill them all?" she asks.

       "Metaphorically speaking, yes."

       "Pity. The Gypsy looks delicious."

       "The Gypsy is Maria Piazzi." He knows she will recognize the name.

       "The Soul Healer?" she says with some reverence.

       "The very same."

       "She was there?"

       "Yes."

       "Did she play?"

       "Oh yes."

       A look of envy crosses his child's face, but it is gone almost too fast for even most vampires to see. Most vampires aren't him, however, and he is acutely observant. Her envy pricks what is left of his conscience. Whatever wounds Pam has on her soul, he has no doubt that he is responsible for a least a few of them.

       "She will be coming here in the spring," he tells her with some pride.

       "Truly?"

       He nods. "I have her card and she has mine. She said she was thinking of visiting in April. I told her to work out the date with our Events Coordinator."

       "Events Coordinator?" she repeats.

       "Yes, I am making Sookie Fangtasia's Events Coordinator. She will be overseeing all bookings for bands and talent. She even suggested that we have a karaoke night."

       It's ridiculous, but it might be fun to try once or twice just, for the shock value. He needs to shake his minions up every now and then otherwise they'll think he's getting soft. He might even consider going up a time or two himself. He has a decent voice when he puts his mind to it.

       "You are giving your human a job in management?" Pam says carefully.

       There is an edge to her voice that piques his ire. Is she  _questioning_  him? He flicks his eyes at her, and she has the self-preservation to look away.

       "You know she will not take anything from me that she doesn't believe she has earned, and I want her on our group health insurance policy since she has an irritating habit of getting herself beat up and shot at," he explains coldly. Their relationship is amiable, but she must never forget that  ** _he_**  is her Master.

       "Yes, that is true."

       She still will not look at him. He doesn't like it. He thinks she has been pushing her limits with him recently, and enjoying his turmoil far too much. If she keeps it up much longer, he'll have to remind her of his power over her.

       But her reaction confuses him. He had not considered that Pam would have an issue with Sookie coming to work at the bar. He'd been under the impression that his child held his bonded in high esteem – especially since Rhodes. He did not think he was wrong about that so there must be another issue he has not taken into account.

       "You object? I did not think you would," he states. "I thought you liked Sookie." Does Pam see Sookie as a rival? No, such a thing is impossible.

       "I do have a certain fondness for her, but she is human."

       So the issue is Sookie's mortality and her apparent position of authority. He relaxes, letting the tension leave his shoulders. He trusts that his bonded will prove her worth, and that his child will soon see that having Sookie handle the performers will take a burden off of her shoulders. He does not tell her this, however, because it is not her place to second-guess his choices. That is why he is Master and she is not.

       "Is my decision going to be a problem for you?" His voice holds an edge of challenge, and she submits immediately like a good minion.

       "Not for me, Sheriff, but... there might be others..."

       He snorts. Clancy? Thalia? He could shred any one of his underlings into pieces before they even twitched if they so much as hinted they would harm his bonded.

       "Pam," he says in a voice that commands her attention. "Sookie is my blood-bonded. The bond is permanent."

       She seems surprised, and then somewhat relieved. "She has finally accepted it then?"

       "Yes."

       "That will make life more pleasant for you," she says cautiously, keeping her eyes down.

       "And for all those under me, since I will no longer be... conflicted." He knows he has been moody, short-tempered.

       "Yes," she agrees.

       Since she has submitted, and made all the little gestures acknowledging his superiority, he feels generous and tosses her a reward.

       "Her work here will make your job easier. I know you have issues dealing with... individuals with mercurial temperaments."

       She considers his words then nods. "Most artists are... demanding and difficult. But will they respect a human as their contact?"

       "They will if they respect me, and she will soon prove her worth in the position, so there will be no problems. See to it that I have the necessary paperwork by close of business tonight, and I will bring the forms with me when I leave."

       He turns his head to the pile of mail, indicating that the subject is closed.

       "You are headed back to Bon Temps?" she asks.

       "Yes."

       If she has any opinions on where he will be spending his day, she doesn't voice them, but her question reminds him of another, more pressing, matter that he must tell her about. He does not know the source of the leak, so he takes a piece of paper from the printer behind his desk and writes a short note on it:

        **There is an important matter I must discuss with you.**  "Has everything been going smoothly in my absence?" he says nonchalantly.

       He sees her read the note and give him a look, but she is smart enough to play along. "We have had no unusual incidents."

        **This office may be bugged. Fangtasia may be compromised. It is not safe to speak freely here,**  he writes. "Excellent. Sometimes I think I am becoming obsolete."

       "That is not possible. You are the only one Thalia will listen to, Sheriff."

       He grunts. "She is a concern. Did she hurt anyone while I was gone?"  **My car has been cleaned. We should go for a short drive.**

       "No, but she did scare some tourists," she answers as she nods to him that she understands.

       "That can only be good for our reputation."

       She makes a sound of agreement, although he knows she is not fond of Thalia. To be honest, he doesn't care for the female either, but as long as she abides by his rules, he tolerates her.

       "There is something I would like to show you," she begins. "There is a new alternative nightclub that has opened up closer to the center of Shreveport."

       "Vampire owned?" he asks, trying to remember if he gave approval for something like that.

       "No, but they have an interesting façade on the front of their establishment that I thought you might like to see."

       Ah. It is the excuse to leave the bar in his car. "Shall we take my car?"

       "Yes, I will tell Clancy that we will be back in twenty minutes."

       "I'll meet you outside."

       He rises to his feet and she watches him pick up his sword, then they leave the office together, but she heads for the bar while he heads for the exit. He is waiting for her by his car when she emerges from the back entrance, and he motions that she should get into the passenger seat. She does so without question, and he gets in behind the wheel.

       They are out of the parking lot and headed towards the big toy store before he speaks.

       "Sookie and I were attacked last night," he says.

       She sits up a little straighter, her eyes gleaming with anger. "By whom?"

       "Seven vampires total."

       "All dead now?"

       As if she has to ask, but she knows he would never allow an enemy to attack him and get away unless he himself was severely injured.

       "Oh yes."

       "Where were you attacked?"

       "At the airfield. They were waiting in ambush when we landed. They killed two shifters who had been hired to deliver fuel. We can expect their packleader to come to the bar asking questions."

       "Do you know who is behind the attack?"

       Since he has centuries of experience lying, and he's practiced this lie multiple times already, he is able to say no convincingly enough to fool his often too observant child. She frowns and turns her attention to the traffic around them, then she tells him to turn left at the next light.

       "Whoever it is, he has access to information either through our cell phones or our Internet. He also bugged my car with a GPS tracking device and attempted to blow it up with a bomb," he says.

       "A bomb?"

       "A poorly made bomb," he corrected. "As it turns out, it would not have detonated. No blasting cap."

       "Amateurs," she sneers.

       He glances at her, surprised. He did not think she knew anything about explosives, but obviously he is in error. It is a skill she must have learned sometime during the years that they were apart. If she is adept, it could be a very useful in what is to come. He does not expect Victor to go down easily.

       "Yes, well, lucky for us, I sniffed out the explosives and was able to remove the bomb without any incidents," he says, turning left when the light turns green.

       "Who else knows about the attack?"

       "Packmaster Herveaux and his underling, the pilot of the jet, the two witches who live with Sookie, and now you."

       He watches her digest this before moving on to the next logical question.

       "How did they know when to be at the airfield?"

       "That is undetermined."

       The light goes on in her eyes, and he knows she has puzzled out his reasons for suspecting that his office is bugged. "You think they are listening in on our phones or accessing our email."

       "Yes."

       "I will hire someone to come in and do a bug sweep and clean our computers."

       "That will not be necessary. I have already contacted someone who will do the job discretely."

       He sees her think about this for a moment. "You wish the incident to be kept quiet."

       He nods. "Yes."

       "You suspect the king?"

       "The thought has crossed my mind, but I have no proof."

       "He has no reason to want you dead. You have sworn an oath of fealty to him. More likely it is a rival who wants your territory," she reasons.

       "That is my suspicion as well, but again, no proof."

       "What do you want me to do, Master?" she asks in a soft voice. She has dropped all semblance of equality and become his obedient child.

       "Nothing as of yet, but put things in order so that, if you have to run, you can do so immediately."

       She digests this for a long time, only speaking to guide him to a renovated building near the center of the city.

       "I will stand by you, Master. The others as well. We will all stand by our sheriff."

       Her statement of loyalty is heartening, but it is not unlike the men who would blindly follow him to their certain deaths simply because he was leading them. He has felt the helplessness of knowing his people were doomed all too recently, and he has no desire to feel the pain of loss again so soon. There are many sheriffs who would willingly throw their underlings out to be slaughtered, but he is not one of them.

       "I am happy to hear you say that, Pam, but I don't want it to come to that. I very nearly lost all of you the night Nevada took over. I was in Bon Temps while the rest of my people were trapped in the bar. I do not want to be in that position again."

       "I was free, Master. I killed many of them," she reminds him.

       "I know, and I am very proud of you. You are my finest creation. But I will not sacrifice you needlessly. If I order you to run, you must run."

       "You already know who is behind this," she whispers.

       Sometimes he forgets that he taught her everything she knows.

       "You would do well to keep your suspicions to yourself," he warns.

       "Who else will you tell?"

       "I intend to brief Bill Compton upon his return. He will be charged with protecting Sookie if I am not readily available."

       "There have been a rash of new faces in the bar recently. Not all of them have registered with you," she says suddenly, and he knows she is not letting her original suppositions go. She will chew on it like a dog with a bone. "Do you think one of them is a spy?"

       "It is possible."

       "I will make some inquiries."

       "No. You will let me handle this," he tells her firmly, laying down the law. "The less you know, the safer you will be. I assure you, when the time comes, if you can be of use to me, I will tell you everything."

       She nods, her face impassive.

       They have come to the club in question, and he immediately sees Pam's point. Far from being a Goth club or establishment catering to the darker side of human nature, this place caters to the righteous party-seeker. The front is an image of Heaven, complete with angels and pearly gates and shining rays of holy light, but the corner also has a very gruesome painting of several vampires being immolated in the sun.

       "Oh, how  _quaint_ ," he sneers.

       "They call it  _Gabriel's_ ," his child tells him. "It bills itself as the answer to Shreveport's demon bar. They play Christian rock music, I believe."

       He smirks. "I'm sure their patrons do not have the religious experiences ours do when they come to Fangtasia."

       She laughs, then sobers. "We believe that the club is secretly owned by members of the Fellowship of the Sun."

       Now  ** _that_**  is a name that can wipe the smirk off his face and make his fangs run down in rage. A fringe sect of the Fellowship is responsible for the bombing in Rhodes.

       "I took the liberty of informing Sandy of our suspicions. I hope I was not out of line," Pam says.

       "No, you did well. What was Sandy's response?"

       "That we will watch and wait. If there is any truth to the rumor, and if they are using this club as a headquarters to launch attacks against us, we will deal with it."

       He nods, his eyes narrowing. The complication of an active Fellowship hunting vampires in his city is an added stress he does not wish to deal with. If he isn't certain that she will go in and slaughter everyone in the club, he might consider Thalia for the job, but her method will be too direct and messy for his purposes.

       "I think I see several fire code violations in this club's future," he comments. "What do you think?"

       She chuckles. "Yes, it's tragic how quickly a blaze can spread in a place like that."

       They share twin feral smiles, their fangs down, and he drives by, heading back to Fangtasia feeling bolstered with the possibility of well deserved vengeance. The perpetrators of the bombing in Rhodes have yet to be brought to justice. Perhaps the silly mortals think that, because so much time has passed, they are safe. They have no idea what time is to a being that lives for centuries.

       It might take years to discover all of those responsible, but they  ** _will_**  be found, and they  ** _will_**  be made to suffer, and they will be made an example of what happens when you cross a superior species. He himself owes them pain and agony for his own losses. If not for the bombing, the Queen would not be dead and his world would not have been turned upside down.

       But... if not for the bombing, Andre would still be alive, Sookie would never have been forced to see Quinn's true nature, and it is doubtful that she would have accepted their bond and gotten back together with him. Hm. Maybe he owes the Fellowship a big thank you instead. He'll kill a couple of them quickly to show his gratitude.

       Back at Fangtasia, he and Pam enter into the middle of a ruckus involving a group of shifters and one of his vampire bouncers, a new hire aptly named Goliath. He is sure it is not the man's real name, but the moniker fits. The vampire is a giant of a man, almost as big as the deceased Sigebert, but better looking and much younger. He places Goliath at about twenty or so vampire years old: not a newborn, but not much past the fledgling stage either. It is his understanding that the job at Fangtasia is Goliath's first foray out of his maker's nest, and the young one is almost ridiculously eager to please.

       Tonight someone, several someones actually, have tried to breach the steel door that leads to the offices, and Goliath was tasked with stopping them. The result is the standoff he and Pam come upon when they return to the bar.

       "What is the meaning of this?" he demands, coming to stand beside his bouncer.

       Pam flanks the bouncer on the other side, and now it is three vampires against six shifters. The odds are well in their favor, but the shifters are angry, and that will make them reckless. His fangs come down and he bares his teeth. Pam does the same and they present a formidable front.

       "You are the Northman?" one demands. He is not a big man, but what there is of him is all muscle. He is wiry, with a full beard that connects to his reddish, curly hair that is streaked with blond, brown and grey. Eric knows who he is before he even identifies himself.

       "Who is asking?" he counters.

       "I am Bodine Straley, leader of the were-bobcats. Your people killed two of my number last night," the shifter accuses.

       Fangs are coming out all around and customers are leaving in droves. While the prospect of a bar fight usually counts as entertainment, it is obvious that this disagreement has the potential to get out of hand very quickly, and those who value their lives are getting out now. He growls unhappily because the man has the audacity to challenge him on his own turf and make an accusation that is wholly without merit.

       "You come here and accuse us of killing your shifters? Since when do we give a fuck about shifters enough to kill them?" Pam snarls. "What proof do you have that it was one of us?"

       By now his people have surrounded the little group, and the shifters are woefully outnumbered eleven to six, but the odds don't seem to bother them, and he assesses the situation quickly. If it continues, there will be bloodshed and lots of it... in his bar. While that in and of itself is not a big concern for him – the bar was designed with bloodletting in mind – the consequences of an all out brawl are significant. Not only will it stir up a great deal of bad blood between the vampires and shifters at a time when the shifters are considering going public, but the incident might put him back under scrutiny if it appears that he can't control his people.

       "Their bodies reeked of your undead stench!" one of the henchmen the packleader brought with him seethes.

       "And because vampires killed your people, they must automatically be ones associated with us?" Pam counters sarcastically.

       He would like nothing more than to rip off their heads and bathe in their blood, but it might be wiser to use a bit of diplomacy. He wishes his bonded was there because then she could probe their thoughts, and tell him what they are thinking and how far they are willing to go to get vengeance, but she is not so he will have to make do with a thousand years of experience sizing up an enemy. As far as worthy foes go, this bunch is a joke.

       "We know all the vampires in this area must come through this bar for hunting permission," Bodine states.

       Pam laughs. "Of course. In case you hadn't noticed, we were just taken over by another state. We're dealing with a lot of poachers coming in who don't follow protocol."

       "Are you saying that you had nothing to do with the murder of my people?" the packleader demands.

       During this exchange he wonders why the assassins killed the shifters at all. Could the two men simply have been victims of chance, only guilty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? If that was so, then why break their necks instead of draining them, and why go after the pilot? It strikes him that maybe Victor's assassins were trying to stir an already boiling pot by killing the shifters and trying to pin it on his people.

       "Packmaster Herveaux left me a message about this incident," he speaks up, taking a step forward. "Two of your number were found murdered. The scent of vampire was on the bodies, but the victims were not drained."

       "Stan and Robert Heller. They owned a gas and oil company," Bodine confirms. "Packmaster Herveaux said he received an anonymous tip about the murders and was told where to find them."

       Packmaster Herveaux had neglected to include that little tidbit in the voicemail the Were had left him regarding his official "story." He will have to have words with Packmaster Herveaux later.

       "It is unfortunate that it happened, but none of my people would do such a thing."

       Bodine laughs. "As if vampires have never killed us."

       The laugh irritates him, and it takes a great deal of control for him to rein in his temper so he doesn't swipe the smirk off the shifter's face. "Only when we are at war or when we are provoked. I do not think either applies here. We have had no hostilities between our people for years."

       "Liar! Your group destroyed two Weres last year," one of the other shifters accuses.

       "If you are speaking of Hallow and her brother, they were dangerous Were witches who also drank vampire blood. They were also responsible for the murders of a number of the Shreveport Werewolves," he replies acidly.

       "And if you know the story, you know the vampires and the Weres teamed up to defeat Hallow's coven together," Pam adds.

       The shifters grumble and look sullen. Now that the dangerous edge is coming off the situation, things are calming down. He is both relieved and disappointed. A good fight would have satisfied his need for violence.

       "Packleader Straley, I can assure you that none of my people are behind the murder of your shifters," he states firmly, almost daring the wereanimal to challenge him. "But I give you my word that I will look into this matter myself, and if I discover any information that might be of use to you, I will give you the information free and clear."

       The group speaks to each other in a language of snarls and growls as the underlings confer with their leader. He relaxes and looks bored, which he is. He would much rather be back in his office catching up on his work. All of these distractions are keeping him away from the things he ought to be doing, and that will make him run late to see his bonded. If they don't let him get back to work soon, he's going to start busting heads and damn the consequences. He promised his bonded that he would see her before 3am, and he intends to keep that promise.

       "My people inform me that none of the vampires here match the scents that were on the bodies of Stan and Robert Heller," the packleader finally says.

       He snarls, seeing red, his fangs coming down again after they had retracted. "You dare to question my word, shifter?" he growls. "You come here into ** _my_**  bar, you accuse  ** _my_**  people of committing a crime they did not commit, then you doubt my word when I tell you that none of them were involved? I could  ** _kill_**  you for that."

       The underlings snarl back and his people respond in kind, but the packleader is shrewd and does not rise to take the bait. Pity.

       "You are right. We are on your property. We are in error," Bodine admits. "We will go, but we will hold you to your word."

       A look from him causes his people to part ranks and allow the were-bobcats to leave unaccosted. Once they are gone, the tension in the bar breaks and what patrons are left return to whatever they were doing before the trouble. He stays in the main room long enough to survey the crowd and reestablish his authority before returning to his office.

       He smells the intruder before he even takes two steps down the hall, but he recognizes the scent so he does not sound an alarm. His fangs do come down, however, as he enters his office and finds Victor Madden sitting at his desk.

       "You handled that situation well," Victor comments, turning the chair to face him.

       He wants to snarl, leap over his desk and rip the other vampire out of his chair, preferably in three or four pieces, but he stops himself and manages to put on a neutral face. He reasons that the other man has come here to feel him out; to see if he can discern what happened and why his prey is still alive.

       "Thank you."

       Victor indicates the piles of mail on the desk and gives him an inquiring look. "I suppose this explains why I have been unable to reach you."

       "I submitted my vacation plans to the king's representative, Sandy. They were approved." He allows his voice to be slightly defensive, as if he is offended by the statement, which he is.

       "Vacation? Is that what they are calling it these days?"

       "I am sure I do not know what you are talking about. I took my blood-bonded on a much needed trip," he replies blandly, keeping his face completely expressionless.

       "Blood-bonded?" Victor repeats.

       As he gets closer, his Hammer starts to tingle, and for a moment he is concerned that it will flare and give him away, but it only pings a warning that tells him there is silver somewhere close by.

       "Sookie Stackhouse. The telepath."

       "Truly? I was led to believe that Miss Stackhouse rejected your bond and favored another. The weretiger, Quinn."

       It takes everything he has not to growl. "You were misled. Sookie is mine." She's not there, so he can say it, and really, she is going to have to get over her aversion to being considered his. The term of possession is standard in his world. "The bond is permanent. We sealed it while we were away."

       That gets a reaction, and he sees Victor's eyebrows raise a hair. "Really? How interesting. Does the King know?"

       "I intend to make a formal announcement... on Wednesday. Of course the king will be informed and invited. And you as well, Victor," he answers, hoping Victor will come even though he has made the trip north to Shreveport once already. He cannot have it earlier because his bonded's dress will not arrive until Monday. If Victor bows out, then they will lose an opportunity for Sookie to glean information from him, and he will have to reassess his strategy.

       "How nice of you. I may indeed come."

       He allows himself a little smile, the tips of his fangs showing. "I can assure you, you won't be disappointed."

       "From what I have seen of Miss Stackhouse, there is little to be disappointed in."

       Victor gives him a sly look through hooded eyes, daring him to rise to the challenge. The other vampire must think him completely stupid if he thinks a vampire of his age will fall for  ** _that_**  ploy.

       "My bonded has many pleasing attributes," he agrees.

       Victor chuckles, and the sound makes him want to tear the other vampire's face off, but he waits; he bides his time. There will be ample opportunity for revenge later.

       "That she certainly does. Where did you take her?"

       "North. We even got snowed in for an extra day," he responds.

       He gives nothing away that anything is at all amiss, nor does he give any hint that there was any trouble upon their return. He sees Victor watching him, looking for any sign of tension or fear, but he keeps his face neutral and his voice pleasant. Nothing he says or does will reveal anything to his enemy. He is a master at this game, and very few have ever bested him at it.

       "How delightful. You took pictures I am assuming?"

       He nods and steps forward, reaching for the keyboard and inputting his password to unlock the desktop. He makes a mental note to change it as soon as Victor is gone as he clicks open the folder that holds the pictures he downloaded earlier. He chooses the first one in the list and opens it.

       "Ah," Victor comments, nodding.

       He scrolls through the images, leaning as far away from the other vampire as feasible because his Hammer tingles more strongly every time he gets too close. Victor must have a silver chain or set of silver manacles in a protective casing somewhere nearby, perhaps in the coat he has so carelessly draped over the back of Eric's chair.

       He runs scenarios in his head of what to do should Victor try to ensnare him with them. He knows that he will have no choice but to kill Victor if that happens, and he takes a mental inventory of the weapons at his disposal. There is a short sword in the closet, and several stakes in the top drawer of his filing cabinet. A gun loaded with silver bullets is hidden in his desk.

       He decides to go for the stakes if Victor makes a move, but so far his enemy does not show any signs of planning to attack. Instead he sees Victor's eyes light up with surprise when they come to the image of the snowball fight.

       "Maria Piazzi," the other vampire states with some hesitation. It is obvious that the presence of the Soul Healer means something to Victor, and Eric can almost hear the wheels turning in Victor's head as he processes what he is seeing.

       "Yes." There is no sense in denying it.

       "North, you say? You wouldn't happen to have taken your bonded to the famed Isle Elena?" Victor's voice is shrewd.

       That answer is a minefield. "You have been there?" he asks instead.

       "I have heard of it. Its reputation is well known."

       "Yes."

       It is all the information he is willing to give unless Victor asks him another direct question, but it does not appear that he will. If he is reading his enemy's body language correctly, the revelation that the place he took his bonded to is none other than the famed island retreat appears to have forced Victor to reassess. He saw Victor's eyes dart and his fingers twitch slightly, and he files the information away for later scrutiny.

       Perhaps Victor was planning to explain Eric's murder as necessary because he was plotting against the king. Maybe he had even trumped up some "evidence" of Eric's treason to show Felipe as "proof," but the moment it was known that he had taken Sookie to Isle Elena, all of those arguments would be negated.

       He is never happier with his choice of retreat than he is in that moment. With two words, he has upset all of Victor's plans and forced his enemy to "go back to the drawing board." That can only work in their favor because it will buy them more time. He wants to grin and show his fangs, but he doesn't.

       "You had a pleasant trip then," Victor states finally.

       "Oh yes. Very  _pleasant_." He puts the emphasis on pleasant, and gives Victor a wink, letting his fangs run down a little. Let the other vampire think he is remembering pleasures, and not imagining what it would be like to take his broadsword and chop of his enemy's head. Come to think of it, his sword is still in his car. An oversight on his part that he won't repeat.

       "But you didn't come here to look at my vacation pictures," he says.  _'No, you came here to find out why I'm still alive.'_  "What is it that you require of me?"

       "New Orleans remains a shambles," Victor begins, leaning back in the chair as if he owns it. He suppresses a growl. "The lack of planning and action on the part of the humans is deplorable. The human government is anxious for the vampires to return to New Orleans to bolster their sagging tourism revenue, but they have yet to take any significant initiative to rebuild the city in such a way that we would want to return. However, our King is impatient, and he wants to see progress and profits from his investments in New Orleans. The other Sheriffs and I are voluntarily increasing our tithes to the King's coffers to support the renovation efforts, and I have come to discuss your Area's contribution."

       The excuse is nicely played, but he already knows about the plan. The new Sheriff of Area Three called him last week about it, and he had agreed to commit an additional 15-percent of his profits to the King for the next year to support the rebuilding of New Orleans. It was determined that, because his Area was doing well from all the influx of Southern Louisianans moving north, he could afford the double-digit increase, and he didn't feel he had the leverage to argue.

       "I have already pledged an increase of 15-percent," he says coolly. "I spoke with Angela Strauss, the Sheriff of Area Three about this last week. It was decided that the increase would take effect this quarter to capitalize on holiday shopping revenue."

       Another twitch of Victor's hand tells him that the other vampire had not expected that reply from him. He does not know why. Angela is a hopeless gossip. She nearly talked Pam's ear off on the night she called to speak to him. There is no reason for Victor to assume that Angela would not call to inform them of the new plan – unless Angela had been instructed not to. Could it be that she was showing defiance to Victor, or was it that she knew some of Victor's plans and was trying to thwart them?

       Of all the Louisiana Sheriffs, he is the oldest and the strongest. His position might have been compromised by the take-over, but he still remains a formidable adversary. If Victor is seeking to seize Louisiana from Felipe, he will have to either curry Eric's favor or seek to eliminate him to throw Area Five into chaos. It would appear that Victor has opted for the latter solution.

       On the chessboard in his mind, he moves the pieces into their new places to reflect the changing landscape. He shifts his pawns and rooks, leaving the knights to guard the queen, and tries to see a strategy that will win the game. He is very good at chess. His people practically invented it. He could beat any mortal Grand Master and a number of the immortal ones. If Victor doesn't know this, he is a complete idiot. Either that or he is far too pompous and in love with himself to know he is kicking a sleeping dragon.

       "I am glad to hear that you are being so generous," Victor comments with a careless wave of his hand.

       "I am glad you think so," he replies. "Was there anything else?"

       Victor's body language tells him that his enemy is looking for a graceful way out, and he decides to give the other vampire an opportunity. It is obvious by the tension in Victor's shoulders that their meeting did not go the way he had expected, and Eric can only feel a predatory glee at that. Where his enemy thought to deliver a killing blow, Victor has found that his prey has not only escaped unscathed, but that the tables have been turned. He is enjoying the feeling of having the upper hand on Victor, but he knows he must play it cool.

       "No, that was all," Victor finally replies.

       "Very well then. As you can see from the large stack of mail, I have a lot of work to catch up on. So if you will excuse me," he says, pasting a pleasant smile on his face.

       "Of course," his enemy says and rises to his feet. The fact that he handles the coat gingerly, and keeps the one side turned away from him, does not go unnoticed to Eric's sharp gaze.

       All of Eric's warrior instincts are urging him to strike now while he has the advantage, but the pragmatist in him stays his hand. This one will require patience, but he feels confident that the right time will come, and soon.

       "I will see you on Wednesday," Victor says as he passes him.

       "I will post the notice for the event tomorrow. I will call you, Sandy, and the other Sheriffs with the details."

       Victor nods to him and walks out, and he can barely suppress the feral smile that touches his lips when he is gone, his fangs fully down. Pam is in the doorway immediately, her face anxious. She must have known Victor was there in his office, but had the sense to keep away. He gives her a reassuring nod.

       "All is well?" she asks.

       "All is well," he replies, giving her a smile.

       She nods and relaxes, then returns to the bar. It is her night to be on duty. It's his as well, but he will not present himself until he has caught up on his work.

       Alone in his office, he allows himself to relax and enjoy his little victory. With the tables turned, he knows that Victor will now have to lay a new plan of assault, which means the likelihood of more attacks on him and his bonded in the near future is much reduced. In the interim, he and his bonded have time to work on their own plan, and he is inordinately pleased to know that Victor left without getting any of the answers he had come for, namely what happened to the ambush and the assassins he had sent to kill the Sheriff of Area Five.

       What he was able to glean from Victor's silent cues, and the tidbit that the Sheriff of Area Three defied him, makes it more likely that Victor is acting on his own, and is not backed by Felipe. This is a relief, and he makes a mental note to have Pam contact Angela to give her a cryptic warning to watch her back. He feels he owes the female that much.

       For now he would like to get back to work, but his chair reeks of Victor, and that he cannot abide. With a swift kick, he sends the chair wheeling towards the door, then he stands behind his desk, does a quick Internet search for a new and better chair, and orders it rush delivery. He will use the bookkeeper's chair in the interim. Once he is done, he kicks the chair down the hall to the back door, making a detour into the storeroom for a bottle of grain alcohol, and then he shoves the chair out into the service parking lot.

       Pam comes to see what he is doing as he dumps the contents of the bottle on the chair.

       "I hope you intend to account for that. Bruce will be frantic if he thinks a bottle of whiskey is missing," she deadpans, leaning casually against the open doorframe.

       "I'll write it off as an inventory loss," he replies.

       She hands him a Zippo. He flips it open, flicks it to strike up the flame and tosses the lit lighter onto the doused chair. It goes up in a colorful blaze of leather and alcohol. His fangs run down as the flames dance in his eyes, and he imagines Victor being the one set ablaze.

       "Wonderful. I'll order you a new chair," his child says in a bored tone.

       "Already done. It will arrive on Sunday."

       He hears her laughter and he smiles at her, the light from the burning chair illuminating his face.

       "I needed a new one anyway."

       She snorts and walks back into the bar. When the chair is reduced to ashes, he has Indira dispose of it in a nearby swamp while he goes back to his office to finish his work.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

_Chapter Twenty-Five_

       Because efficiency is his middle name, and because most of the Sheriff issues are paltry requests not worth his attention, he finishes his backlog of work in record time. As such he is back on display at his usual table in the center of the bar by eleven. The return of the Master is a significant event, and each of his subordinates comes to greet him and welcome him back. He acknowledges them with a nod as he stretches his long legs out from the chair. His body posture is one of casual ease, his face bored, but his senses are on high alert, his gaze sharp and predatory.

       Fangbangers approach him, but he sends them all away with a scowl. He is not in the mood for their company, and none of them are customers to whom he would pay special attention. Pam comes to sit beside him in her usual spot, and he acknowledges her with a tilt of his head. The necklace he gave her is still around her throat, the gold gleaming in the muted light of the bar. He can tell that she is pleased, in more ways than one.

       "You are glad I am back," he states.

       "Things run more smoothly when you are here. There are fewer incidents and your subjects know to behave themselves," his child replied, surveying the crowd with a critical eye.

       He smiles indulgently and flicks a hand at one of the barmaids. Her eyes widen, and she scurries to get him a TrueBlood. His smile spreads as he savors the feeling of power. He likes it very much. He hears Pam chuckle and he looks sidelong at her. She has a smug expression on her face.

       "What?" he asks.

       "You missed being here."

       He lets out a breath through his nose. "Of course."

       The barmaid nearly trips bringing him his drink. She is new and she reeks of fear. He lifts a lip at her when she fumbles with the lid on the bottle, his fangs down, and he delights in the trembling of her hands. She finally gets the bottle open and places it on the table with the requisite napkin. He wants to laugh, but that would ruin the effect. Another flick of his hand sends the girl skittering away, and Pam chuckles again.

       "You still enjoy intimidating the staff," she states.

       He sips the TrueBlood, frowning and remembering – too late – that he has a freeze dried pod of Bloodvine AB neg in his car, along with three freeze dried fey Bloodvine pods, but he will never drink them here. The bar wouldn't survive the encounter, and possibly several human employees and guests wouldn't either.

       "Of course," he answers again.

       "It is good to see that the human has not defanged you quite yet."

       He scoffs and holds out his hand for her blackberry. She gives it to him without question. He is considering getting one of these multi-use cell phones for himself, but he wants the technology to be a bit more advanced before he does. He likes things to work and new technology is often, how do they say? Full of bugs. He uses Pam as a tester for such things and so far she likes it.

       He opens the web browser and surfs quickly to the page for the dress he bought for Sookie. He pulls up the image and hands the Blackberry back to Pam.

       "The dress Sookie will wear on Wednesday when I announce our bonding," he explains.

       She looks at the image and smiles. "She will never wear it."

       "She will," he insists with confidence.

       "She will refuse and be difficult."

       "She will not."

       The smile spreads on his child's face and a feral gleam comes into her eyes. "Will you punish her as you punished me?"

       He knows she is referring to the public spanking. Of all his punishments, that is the one that made the most impression on her. There is an almost gleeful anticipation in her voice, as if she is looking forward to someone else suffering the same humiliation. She does not realize that, should he ever be forced to discipline his mate, he will never do so where other eyes can see.

       "There will be no need," he states with authority.

       She gives him a short laugh, as if he is being stupid, and puts the phone away. "I will bring my paddle, just in case."

       He grunts and turns his head. His eyes fall on another of his subjects, a female vampire displaced from southern Louisiana by the hurricanes. She had come north and requested permission to relocate into his Area, and, since she had followed all of the proper protocols and procedures he requires, he had allowed her to stay. She put in her weekly allotted hours at Fangtasia with no complaint, and gave him no trouble.

       As far as subordinates go, she is a favorable one, and he decides that she will suit for his purposes. He flicks a hand to call a barmaid over. There is always one watching for his slightest movement, and she presents herself within seconds. It is a different one from the girl he scared earlier.

       "Yes, Master?"

       "Tell the vampire Cynthia that I require her presence," he orders.

       She bows and goes immediately to fulfill her duty. A moment later, Cynthia is approaching his table. The female is tall and skinny, with long red hair and a pale complexion that is white even for a vampire. She must have been fair-skinned as a human, and vampirism has only accentuated her pallor. She is fine-boned with long limbs and delicate hands, and it is the skill of those hands that he requires.

       "You called me, Master?" she asks, her green eyes concerned. All of his subjects know he does not summon them unless he needs something.

       "It has come to my attention that you have some skill as an artist on the computer," he says.

       "Yes, Master. I was a graphic artist in life."

       "I require a notice to be designed and released for tomorrow. I am assigning this task to you."

       "Yes, Master."

       "It does not have to be fancy, but I would like some small embellishment to make it look formal," he instructs.

       He sees that she is taking all of this in, her vampire mind squirreling away the details and memorizing the facts.

       "The notice is for an Area-wide meeting to be held here on Wednesday at 10pm. All Area Five vampires are expected to attend."

       Cynthia nods. "Do you have anything you wish to add? Something that gives a hint as to what the meeting will entail?"

       He considers that for a moment, mulling over how much he should reveal ahead of time. The announcement of his bonding, and Sookie's official position by his side, will come as no surprise, but he does not want to give too much away too soon.

       "No. Only that attendance is mandatory, and the event is semi-formal. I expect my subjects to be dressed appropriately."

       "And you need this by tomorrow, Master?"

       He nods. "I do."

       "If you will release me for the night, I can go back to my house and have a draft completed for your approval before the bar closes."

       He flicks his hand. "Go."

       She bows to him and disappears. He stretches his legs and takes a drink from his TrueBlood, surveying the bar to see who was watching. The matter of how the attackers knew when to set the ambush is still unresolved, and any one of the newer, stupider members of his retinue could be responsible. If he discovers who was insolent enough to spy on him, he will make sure that the idiot will be the last one to breach his privacy,  _ever_.

       Of course, since this is his first night back from his "vacation," all eyes are on him. He can hear them gossiping, trying to judge where he has been and what he was doing with whom based on how he looks.

       "He looks relaxed," he hears someone say, and he smiles as he turns his head to catch more snippets of conversations buzzing around him.

       "Who's the hunk?"

       "That's Master Eric."

       "Is he available?"

       "You can ask. If he doesn't kick you in the head, he's available."

       Smart one, that. He scans the crowd to find the one who was speaking, but is distracted by another voice dripping with contempt.

       "I heard he took that little blond human with him. I wonder if he finally fucked the bitch senseless and killed her."

       It is one of his kind, but not one he knows well. It is a male, a transplant from New Orleans. He is standing with Indira near the bar.

       "Shh, you must never speak ill of Miss Sookie where the Master can hear!" his little Indian female admonishes.

       The male laughs cuttingly. "I'm only saying what the rest of us are thinking. The Master has been defanged by a human woman who holds him by the balls. We're all waiting for him to have his way with her, then get rid of her so the rest of us can finally relax."

       Beside him Pam scowls, but he shakes his head slightly. Normally he would have dealt with the insult swiftly, but he stays his hand because he wants to hear what Indira has to say. Since he is going to announce his bonding, and put Sookie on the payroll, it is best to test the waters and see who will be against him.

       "It's true that Master Eric has been on edge lately, but I don't think Miss Sookie has anything to do with it. Things have been very tense since Nevada took over..."

       "Maxwell Lee told me Eric's stopped fucking the fangbangers. That is not Nevada,  ** _that_**  is a sign that his human female wants him tamed."

       Indira makes a sound of helplessness. "You know how humans are. They want one partner. They have to worry about disease and pregnancy."

       "So his bitch imposes her human morals on the Master? Why would he tolerate such an insult if he was not her cuckold?"

       Indira laughs. "Master Eric is no one's cuckold, and you would do well to remember that."

       The male snorts. "Maybe I will do us all a favor and kill the bitch myself. He has not declared her his and, from what I hear, she keeps him tethered while flaunting another male under his nose."

       "If you harm Sookie Stackhouse, the Master will skin you alive, wait for it to grow back, then skin you again. Then he will chain you in silver and leave you out for the sun," Indira warns with complete seriousness.

       He licks his lips and smirks, turning his head away so the insolent fool will not see the dangerous gleam in his eyes. Pam chuckles beside him.

       "Creative, that one. She knows you well," she says in Old Norse.

       "Who is that asshole?" he replies in the same language. He pretends to be interested in a fangbanger dancing on the small dance floor. She is dressed in a miniskirt and fishnet pantyhose and little else.

       "His name is Peter."

       "Is he... attached to anyone?"

       "His nest was destroyed by Katrina. He is the sole survivor."

       "Hmm. Does he have a maker?"

       "I do not know."

       "Tell Bill Compton to look him up. I want to know who I will have to pay restitution to when I kill him."

       Pam snickers.

       "The Master has heard you!" Indira gasps.

       "No, he hasn't. He is too busy watching that human whore and wishing he was allowed to take her. If I was him, I would say fuck the little human bitch and do as I pleased," Peter scoffed.

       "You need to shut up and get out of here. If you stay away for a while, he might calm down enough to let you live."

       "You worry too much."

       "I know my master."

       He knows the idiot is about to deny what Indira already knows, so he turns his head and pierces the asshole with a withering glare, making sure the insubordinate knows he has been seen and heard and noted. Peter has the sense to look abashed, but it will not be enough to save him. He keeps his eyes on the displaced vampire as the underling carefully makes his way out of the bar.

       "Find out where he nests. I will find him and have a talk with him... later," he tells Pam in Old Norse.

       "Of course."

       He flicks a glance at Indira, who is looking tense and uncertain, and he gives her a slight, reassuring nod. She has defended the Master's bonded, and therefore she is still in his favor. She sees his acknowledgement and relaxes, but the concern does not leave her eyes. She knows that Peter's days among them are numbered.

       It is the last incident as the night progresses. Pam sits beside him for most of the evening, but leaves the table at intervals to see to the running of the bar. Around twelve-thirty, Cynthia returns with a printout of the notice she has designed. It is simple and elegant, with crisp flowing script and a thin black stripe border. There is one small black rose graphic in the upper right-hand corner. He approves the design and sends her to the bookkeeper's office with Pam to make copies to put up around the bar and for his underlings to take with them to spread the word.

       Left to his own devices, he finds himself entertaining himself with memories of his trip, and he grows eager for Last Call so he can rejoin his bonded. They are too far away from each other, and have been too long apart. He can already tell that the distance is going to be a problem, and he hopes that she will soon see her way to his side full time. Mates should share a nest, and spend most of their time together. He knows better than to try to force her to leave her work and her home, but he has not given up on a secret campaign to make her realize for herself that she belongs with him, just as he worked quietly to convince her that their bond was worth renewing. He has to make her think it was all her idea or she will balk and refuse him just for spite. He hates that about her. It shows an immaturity that is undesirable in a woman her age.

       His mate is proud and headstrong and independent. He values these qualities, and he does not wish to see her cowed or broken. At the same time, she had best learn the art of yielding to him when he wishes because he will not always bend to her will. He has done a great deal of bending – far more bending than any powerful vampire such as himself ought to have bent – and he has no intention of bending much further. His subjects already think he is henpecked, they think him tamed and defanged. If they believe this, then he must prove to them that he is not, and swiftly, else they think him weak and challenge his authority.

       Killing the fool who dared to threaten his bonded will send a very clear message, but he must also demonstrate his ability to control his mate, and that will not be so easy. For all her seeming knowledge of the Supernaturals, she is woefully naïve when it comes to playing the complicated games within the Supe power structure. She thinks it is perfectly acceptable for her to defy him in public, to undermine his position by making him appear weak and submissive.

       Of all the memories that returned to him when he recalled the time when he was cursed, the ones of how he yielded to her and looked to her for guidance were the most unsettling. He was glad to find that his submission had bothered his bonded, too. If she had wanted to keep control over him, he would have had no choice but to sever the bond, and that would not have been pleasant for either of them.

       Frankly, he isn't certain he could do it anyway.

       As happy and elated as he is that Sookie has accepted their bond, it is also deeply disconcerting how  _strongly_  he feels about her. He once told her that he hated having feelings, that thinking of her and feeling for her was a distraction he could do without, but the bond is fast becoming the most important thing in his life, and that is a frightening prospect. To forget who he is, and what he must do, is a deadly mistake that could cost them both of their lives if he isn't careful.

       Since she already has a reputation for being... difficult, and he already has a reputation for being a rogue and working outside the vampire norms, her independence will not be seen as out of the ordinary, but she will have to learn to play the game and fast. At his level, his peers are incredibly powerful, and most of them do not make themselves vulnerable to humans. She is his biggest weakness, and, if they do end up having to run, he has no doubts that it will be because his mate is too stubborn to get with the program.

       But he must admit that he is happier than he has been in many, many centuries, and her love has lifted tons of weight off his shoulders. He remembers what he was thinking when he promised to go back with her, to leave all he had built in order to stay with her. He had been planning to sell his half of Fangtasia to Pam, then take the money and begin a new venture in Bon Temps. He hadn't decided what that venture would be because he hadn't thought that far ahead, but he'd been certain that the capital from the sale of the business would earn him enough money to have time to make a plan. He'd had it all worked out in his mind; living with her, helping her, having amazing sex with her every night, laughing and snuggling and being with her every possible moment.

       He'd been such a lovesick sap, but part of him still longs for that simple life – the one without the political minefield that he has to traverse every night. It will be even more dangerous if he has to drag a recalcitrant human through it with him. Of all the humans who could have touched him, Sookie Stackhouse has to be the worst.

       He shakes his head, remembering all the insults to his pride and position she has thrown at him: refusing to tell him the truth of their relationship, making him blackmail it out of her and then  _still_  not telling him everything, flaunting the tiger under his nose,  ** _snubbing_**   ** _him_**  for a shifter – a  ** _shifter!_**  She even refused him in front of the shifter and all but kicked dirt at him. He should have killed her for that alone. She'd enjoyed defying him, thought she could get away with it, and he'd let her. It is no wonder why his underlings think he is defanged.

       It makes him angry. Why does he love her? She is stubborn, willful and infuriating. Why can he not bear to think of her being harmed? He was like this even before they bonded in Rhodes. He's been intrigued by her ever since Dallas, and more since giving her his blood in quantity in Jackson. Her hold on him is stronger than any human has ever had, and he does not understand why. Why did he let himself get so tangled up with her? Why did he let himself be brought so low?

       He still has not figured out why he was running down the road near her house that New Years. Not even the return of his memories has brought that answer to light. Of all the places he could have gone when the witch cursed him, why was it to Sookie's house he was headed? He knows now that, even in his black void of nothingness, it was no mistake that he'd ended up where he did. Was he supposed to be running to the person he hated? Loved? Was he supposed to be running home?

       If there is anyone who has cause to regret his time being cursed, it is him. Sookie thinks she is the one who lost the most there, but he begs to differ. He is the one irrevocably changed. He is the one now caught in a slow spiral of inevitable death and sorrow. Finding his way to her house and loving her was the worst thing that could ever have happened to him, and he sometimes wonders if Hallow intended him to be destroyed that way. Maybe she had meant for him to run to the one who had rejected him as he had rejected her offer, and she sent him to the one who would be the cause of his eventual demise. Maybe their love was all part of the curse born from Hallow's twisted mind.

       It pains him to think that, but he can't rule it out. If the witch's plan truly was to destroy him, she's done a good job of it. If he cannot get Sookie to toe the line, he will lose everything, and both of them will probably die in the process. A thousand year-old Master vampire brought down by a twenty-seven year-old human.

       What a joke. Maybe he should just kill her himself, then meet the sun before it gets any worse.

       The pain that lances through him at the thought is almost enough to take his nonexistent breath away, and he has to stop himself from involuntarily touching his chest, but his little shiver is enough to bring a barmaid rushing over. Since he did not give the signal for blood, the young woman does not know what he wants.

       "Master?" she asks, simpering a bit.

       He has to think fast to cover his slip. "Find Pam and inquire about the status of the notice."

       She bows. "Yes, Master."

       After she is gone, he takes stock of what just happened, and he probes his own mental state. Not too long ago, he was happy and eagerly awaiting the close of business. Now he is angry and on-edge, and he wonders if he is not completely responsible for his emotions. He reaches out across the bond, stretching to see how well he can feel her at such a distance, and he is disturbed by what he senses. He concentrates harder, tuning out the noise and bustle of the bar, and lets his awareness slip into the bond.

       He is too far away to hear his mate's thoughts (not for long!) but he can gauge her overall emotional state, and she is very unhappy. He picks through her feelings, trying to determine the source of her distress, but things are too jumbled, and he cannot distill them down to a single commonality.

       What he does know is that he does not like what he feels. She is not regretting their bond, per se, but she is pushing at it, and that is the cause of  ** _his_** emotional upset. He should have known he was being influenced, because he has never rejected their bond the way his mate has, and he has never been upset enough to want her dead – no matter what he might have led her to believe. If he'd wanted her dead, she would have been dead months ago.

       But she is upset, and that makes him upset and protective. He looks at his watch. It is only 1am. Technically he has another hour before the bar closes, but now that he is aware of his mate's distress, it is consuming all of his attention. He tries sending strength and calm through the bond, but it has little effect. By the time Pam presents herself, he is gritting his teeth and ready to rip heads off.

       "You wished to see me?" his child asks.

       "Yes. I am leaving. Please see to the posting and distribution of the notices," he says, rising to his feet.

       Pam gives him a raised eyebrow look, but he does not have to explain himself to her.

       "I will see you tomorrow night. I will be here by eight," he tells her over his shoulder because he is already heading for the rear door, his long strides forcing the thinning crowd to part before him like the Red Sea: Make way. The Master is coming, make way.

       He hits the back door hard enough to nearly rip it off its hinges, and he is already in his car before he realizes that he left his bag in his office. No matter. He has clothes at the Ruston house, and that is where he and his mate will spend the night. Judging by her emotional state, she is definitely going to need the privacy and safety of their secret nest. He throws the car into sixth as he merges onto the Interstate, gunning the engine for all it is worth. Without his bonded in the car to freak out about his heavy foot, he is free to break land speeds. He reaches out to her as he puts the miles behind him, the Corvette slicing through the night like a finely honed blade, and tries to bridge the gap between them.

_'I am coming, my lover. I am coming.'_

       He is coming, and woe betide anyone who gets in his way.

 

888888

 

       Her first day back to work had started out all right. Sam was happy to have her back, didn't ask too many questions about what had happened while she was away, and seemed to have brushed off Eric's hanging up on him. He liked his gifts, and genuinely appeared to be accepting of her choices, even if he wasn't too overjoyed about them. He was the only one who knew she'd gone away with Eric, and since no one else was asking, she wasn't telling. She didn't need the aggravation.

       Friday night was always very busy, and the customers kept her hopping. All of the regulars wanted to know where she had been for five days, and she'd been happy to tell them about her trip north and the snow. She promised pictures and set a mental reminder to ask Eric how to print out the pictures from her phone. It was amazing how a 1000 year-old vampire was more computer literate than she was.

       She was glad to be busy. It kept her mind off of what was happening with Victor and Eric, and the danger they were in. For a few short hours, she could put all the badness aside, and just be Sookie Stackhouse, barmaid. There were no vampires waiting to kill her, no undead Vikings trying to sneak her off early (although that might be fun!), no Weres lurking in the dark parking lot, and the only shifter in the bar was her boss. Yep. As close to normal as her life had been for the past two years.

       Humming to herself, she glanced at the clock. It was midnight. Two hours to go. Three hours before she would see Eric again. She wondered what he was doing; if he was picking up the reins of his normal life the way she was. She couldn't imagine Eric having any trouble reasserting his authority over his minions. She smiled as she pictured him sitting at his table, surveying the crowd and keeping order with a single look. For a second the bond opened, and she got a quick flash of him enjoying himself by scaring a fangbanger. He was very pleased with himself, and she ducked her head to hide her eye roll. Her Viking was going to be insufferable tonight.

       The crowd was starting to thin down a little, finally, and she was able to catch a break. She caught Sam's eye and smiled at him. She was happy, really happy, for the first time in a long time. His eyes were hooded, but he did smile back. She wanted to stick out her tongue and raspberry him for trying to put a damper on her buzz.

       Everything was going fine until, in the process of cleaning a spill on her shirt, she pulled the necklace Eric had given her out from its place against her skin, and it was still out, gleaming in the light, when she returned to her duties.

       "Whoa, pretty necklace, Sookie. Where'd you get that?" Tanya asked her as she returned to the bar for refills. The woman had been much more pleasant to deal with since Octavia and Amelia had broken Tanya's connection to Sandra Pelt.

       "It was a gift," she answered with a smile.

       "It looks old."

       She nodded. "It is old," she confirmed.

       "Ooh, does Sookie have a new boyfriend?" Tanya teased.

       It just so happened that her former BFF, Arlene, was within earshot, and Arlene's eyes shot up. Sookie saw them fall on her necklace and her face drew down in a deep scowl.

       "More like  _old_  boyfriend," the redhead sniped.

       "Old boyfriend?" Catfish Hennessey asked. "Sookie you back with that vampire Bill?"

       She tried not to slam the beer down on the table as she brought him his refill. "Not that it's any of your business, but no, I am not seeing Bill Compton."

       But of course, her denial wasn't enough to keep their minds from whirring, and since she was tired and missing Eric, her shields weren't as strong as they should have been. Pretty soon she was privy to just about every nasty thought buzzing through the bar patrons' heads.

        _'Pretty girl like that screwing a vampire.'_

_'Stupid vamp whore.'_

_'Crazy Sookie Stackhouse never did have any sense.'_

_'They're gonna find her body somewhere, throat all ripped out.'_

_'What? Human guys not good enough for her? She's gotta fuck a dead guy?'_

       Their disapproval flooded into her, and she struggled to fill orders without snapping or bursting into tears. Even Sam was thinking that she was stupid to trust Eric, and that she was probably going to get seriously hurt, maybe even killed. After the ambush of last night, he was probably right.

       All of the arguments against dating Bill came back with a vengeance, only now it was worse because the vampire she was bound to was Eric. It had been bad enough with Bill, but at least their pairing had been somewhat acceptable. Bill was a loner. He had no nest, he did not associate with other vampires often, and he did his best to mainstream. He was practically the poster boy for mainstreaming vampires. If any vampire was going to be acceptable to human society, it was Bill.

       Eric, on the other hand, was  ** _Eric_** : head honcho vampire and political shark. If Bill was the poster boy for mainstreaming vampires, Eric was the poster boy for enterprising vampires capitalizing on humanity's morbid fascination with death. He was intimidating and dangerous. He owned a vampire bar. He ruled Area Five. No one could say that Eric gave a crap about fitting into human society unless there was profit to be made there.

       In vampire society, Eric had throngs of subjects under him, and very few of them were going to be happy that he'd bonded to a human. That would make their relationship unwanted on two fronts. Humans wouldn't accept them because he was a vampire. Vampires wouldn't accept them because she was human – at least not as anything other than his "pet." If she and Eric ever decided to get married, no one would be happy for her, and she'd spend the rest of her life being known as Bon Temps' fangbanger bride. However long that lasted. The odds of them being able to have a long-term relationship were ridiculously high, and she couldn't believe that she'd agreed to re-bond with him.

       She had to have been out of her mind. It had to have been the sex, the magic on the island, how totally amazing he had looked in those leather pants. She'd been under a spell, but now that the spell had been broken, cold, hard reality was sinking in. She was stupid and crazy, and she was going to get herself killed. Eric was a devious, conniving, manipulative bastard who had probably staged the whole thing just to get her back into his bed.

       But how could he have lied to her in the bond? How could he have hidden anything from her when they were so closely tied? He loved her. She knew that he did. What they had shared and felt on Isle Elena wasn't staged or fake. It was real and it was wonderful. Eric had been sweet and loving and gentle, and he'd stayed that way now that they were back. He'd even been nice to Amelia. Was that all an act? Could he be having second thoughts about what they'd done? No. The only thing she'd felt when the bond opened had been contentment and pride.

       Well, of course he was proud. He'd gotten her. He'd gotten her blood, her body, her heart. He'd gotten everything she'd had to offer, and with almost no resistance or trouble from her. Like a stupid idiot, she'd just hopped back into bed with him and declared her love after some flowers and chocolates and pretty words. Who knew she'd be that easy?

       Now she was permanently bonded to Eric Northman, stuck in the middle of a possible turf war between rival vampires, and once again dragged into the kind of danger that often proved fatal to mere mortals such as herself. She truly had to be insane to have allowed herself to be manipulated so expertly. And she'd always thought of herself as smarter than her boobs and blond hair suggested. Oh, how wrong she'd been.

       Her emotional state crashed, and she was left feeling bereft and used. If Eric had been there at that moment, she probably would have slapped him. As it was, she was seriously considering letting him have it with both barrels when he got to her house that night and telling him to take his undead ass back to Shreveport.

       It was while she was in this ever so happy happy joy joy mood, that her brother chose to walk into Merlotte's. He even sat in her section. Yippee, her night was now complete.

       "Hey, Sis," he said sullenly as she went to his table to get his order.

       "What'll ya have?" she asked harshly, holding her pen so tightly she thought she might snap it in two. She'd had enough vampire blood to be stronger than she was used to, so she needed to be careful.

       "A beer and a cheeseburger with fries," he answered, lowering his eyes when she glared at him.

       "Beer and cheeseburger with fries. Comin' right up."

       She was about to stalk away when she heard Jason clear his throat.

       "Uhh, Sookie?"

       She whirled to face him, her jaw tight and her arms stiff at her sides. "Yes?" she answered tersely. She so did not want to deal with him right now. Behind the bar, Sam was watching them with hawk eyes.

       "Crystal told me she heard from Calvin who heard it from Tray Dawson that you're seeing that Eric vampire again."

       She sent daggers at him with her eyes. "It's none of your damn business who I'm seeing, Jason Stackhouse!"

       "Eric? You mean that big, blond vampire who owns the demon bar in Shreveport?" Arlene asked, her eyes wide. In her tone of voice she could have said "that vampire who eats babies and dances on corpses every night."

       She gritted her teeth. "Yes. Eric owns Fangtasia."

       "Did he give you that necklace, Sookie?" Jason questioned.

       She huffed and dropped her goldgubbe down her shirt and out of sight. "None of your business!" she hissed and stomped off to deliver her order. Sam gave her a concerned look, but she shook her head angrily and locked herself down.

       A surge of strength and comfort came through the bond, and it was so strong it almost made her swoon, but she fought it back and gripped the edge of the bar until it passed.

       Great. Now Eric knew she was upset and he was trying to "help."

        _'When he promised not to do that anymore,'_  she thought angrily, needing someone to blame and deciding the dead guy was a good target. She pushed back through the bond and all but screamed across it,  _'Leave me alone!'_

       She got Jason's beer, ignoring Sam's worried look, and took her brother his drink.

       "Here. Your food'll be up in a few minutes," she said, setting down the frosty mug.

       "Thanks, Sookie. You know I'm just worried about you, right? I don't want to see you get hurt."

       "Maybe you should have thought of that before you forced me to break my friend's hand," she whispered angrily, leaning close to him.

       "I didn't know it was gonna go down that way, you gotta believe me. Anyway, we're not talking about me. We're talking about you. This obsession you have with dead guys is no good, Sookie, and you know it. Eric's bad news."

       She saw red, and in some tiny rat corner of her brain, she knew Eric was on his way, and the thought of her Viking coming in and smashing her brother through the window was a thrilling fantasy.

       "You gave up the right to lecture me on my life choices years ago, Jason Stackhouse, so don't you dare tell me what is or is not good for me because you don't have a clue," she scolded, then stomped back to the bar.

       The moment she said it, she knew she meant it. No one had any right to judge her for the choices she had made. She was a grown woman, she knew her own mind, and she wasn't breaking any laws or being unfaithful. Other than being cursed with a disability that made human men think she was defective and Supe men think she was irresistible, she was a normal, red-blooded woman who wanted to be loved and valued just like anybody else. And if the man who had given her those things just happened to be dead, well then tough doo-doo on anyone who didn't like it. They didn't have to live her life.

       She wondered if her sudden improved mood was because she knew Eric was on his way, but she shoved it aside and worked on calming herself down, otherwise her undead Viking was going to come in like The Avenger – possibly even with sword swinging if he strapped it on before he got there. She was smiling at the image as she brought Jason his food, and marveling at the emotional rollercoaster she was riding on. She hadn't been on a real rollercoaster since High School, but somehow the freefall still felt the same.

       Ten minutes later, Eric came into range. She'd been feeling him getting closer and closer, but she really knew he was almost there when she heard his thoughts.

_'Lover? My lover, can you hear me now?'_

       She busied herself with drying some glassware so she could hide her preoccupation.  _'Yes, I can hear you.'_

_'I'm coming. I will be there soon. What has happened? What is wrong?'_

_'It's nothing. I'm better now,'_  she assured him. It was true. It was as if all of her earlier doubt and upset had been swept away by just knowing he was on his way. Who else in her life had ever dropped everything just to come running to her side? He had to have left Fangtasia early in order to arrive when he was, and she wondered if he'd felt her upset and had just walked out.

        _'Tell me,'_  he answered.

       She toyed with the idea of not telling him, but he was going to know anyway because Jason was still at the table in her section and not showing any signs of leaving.

_'Jason's here.'_

_'I... see. I am glad. I have some unfinished business with him.'_

       What unfinished business Eric could have with Jason was beyond her, but the edge of violence in his thoughts made her worry. She looked about the bar, and noted that almost everyone had gone. Even Tanya had already left after cleaning up her section. All that was left were Jason, Arlene, Catfish, two college kids slumming from Ruston, Jane Bodehouse, Sam, and herself. That was good. Fewer people to get out if Eric came in pissed off.

 _'But your brother was not the one who made you so upset,'_  Eric sent to her. He was coming in a lot clearer now, and she was really feeling him. He'd be there any minute.

        _'I really don't want to talk about it,'_  she sent back. She managed to catch Sam's eye and mouth "Eric's coming," just to give her boss a heads up. She saw Sam's eyes widen, then he nodded gravely.

        _'My lover, you are hurting and upset. I can feel it. I left Fangtasia to come to you because I knew you needed me. Why do you keep the things that hurt you away from me?'_

       His heartfelt words made her all gooey inside, and she was reminded of all the reasons why she had been so easily persuaded back to his bed. He knew the right things to say and do, and he was there when she needed him. And now, with him so close and the bond so strong, she knew he wasn't lying to her or deceiving her about how he felt. His love and care washed over her like cool water, and all the tension in her shoulders released and drained out of her.

        _'Really, it's okay...'_  she tried, but she knew before he could say anything that he had already gotten snippets of the things she had heard from her memory, and he was none too pleased.

 _'We will speak of these things in private, my lover. We must be too far apart if such petty and blatantly untrue things can shake your faith in me and our bond,'_  he admonished gently.

        _'I know. I'm sorry...'_

 _'I am here.'_  He was in the parking lot. She could almost hear the Corvette's purr right before he turned off the engine.

_'I know.'_

_'I love you.'_

_'I love you, too. Please don't wreck the bar.'_

_'I would never. I will be the epitome of restraint.'_

       He came in the door and the sight of him took her breath away. He'd let his hair loose, and it framed his face like a golden mane, wild and shining. He was a Norse God, his eyes blazing, his presence filling the bar as he paused in the doorframe. He saw her, made his way to her side faster than anyone could see, and drew her into his arms for a kiss. Sparks flew from her fingertips when they touched, their bond flaring and wrapping around them.

       "My lover," he whispered so lowly only she could hear.

       "Mmmm," she sighed, leaning into his embrace, feeling safe and beautiful. The moment she was in his arms everything made sense again. She was complete and whole again, and all was right with the world. Maybe there was some logic in his statement that they were too far apart...

       He held her a moment more, humming happily in that way that always made her feel cherished, but then her brother decided to be an idiot and try to interfere.

       "You should leave my sister alone," Jason stated.

       "Oh really?" her Viking replied. His voice was velvet over steel. Too bad Jason was too much of an idiot to hear it.

       "Yeah, she doesn't need to be dragged into your vampire shit. She's a hell of a lot better off dating someone who isn't a dead guy."

       "Because human men have treated her so well," Eric said drolly.

       "They've treated her a hell of a lot better than vamps! At least with real guys no one thinks my sister's a  ** _fangbanging whore_**."

        ** _"Jason!"_**  she shrieked, horrified.

       Eric's hand shot out so fast, she didn't even see it move. All she knew was the next second, Jason was writhing on the floor, moaning and grabbing his jaw, blood pooling in his mouth. Eric had slapped him across the face. She didn't even have time to scream, although Jason was making enough noise for both of them.

       "You will never speak of my lover in such terms ever again."

       Jason let out a strangled gasp and let out a gurgled, "You broke my jaw!" Which sounded more like "yophh rooooke mmmpphhh awwwwhh!"

       "I owed you that for striking Sookie after her grandmother was killed," her Viking said harshly, then he reached down and grabbed Jason by the shoulders, swinging him up to the bar as if he weighed no more than an sack of potatoes, and shoving him onto a bar stool.

       While she watched in horror, Eric seized Jason's hand and slapped it flat on the bar, then, while he was holding Jason's wrist, he brought his fist up and prepared to smash Jason's hand the way she'd smashed Calvin Norris's. Jason screamed bloody murder, which was hard to do with his cracked jaw.

       "Eric! Stop!" she cried, reaching to put her hand in the path of danger. She was lucky her lover had vampire reflexes; otherwise she would have been in a world of hurt.

       Eric scowled at her, his fangs down. "Why do you stop me? He owes you the pain."

       Gotta love those Supes. They took the "eye for an eye" thing literally. She took a deep breath and calmed herself down.

       "Yes. I know. But I'm not like that. I'm not vengeful, and breaking his hand doesn't make what he did to me go away," she tried to explain.  _'If you break his hand for me, that makes you no better than him. You shouldn't lower yourself to his level.'_

 _'If he had been one of my subjects, and he had done that to you, I would have killed him,'_ he replied coldly, but he did relax his fist. "You are too good for him, my lover."

       She sighed and looked at her brother. He was bleeding from the mouth, blazing mad, and cursing up a storm now that the danger had passed. His thoughts were black snakes twisting around each other and eating their own tails, and she was starting to rethink her decision to stop Eric.

       "Yeah, I know," she agreed sadly. She turned to Sam who was looking shocked and wary. She half expected him to break a pool cue in half and threaten Eric with it. She made a gesture for calm. "Sam, you know the... customs better than I do. If I let Eric break Jason's hand what will his... in-laws think?"

       She had to be careful what she said because non-Supes were in the bar.

       Jason's eyes widened and he started struggling, but Eric still had his wrist pinned to the bar. Sam looked at her, trying to figure out what she meant. Because she and Calvin had stood for Jason and Crystal at their wedding, technically she had agreed to what that could entail, but now her vampire lover was seeking vengeance for the pain Jason had caused her. In the Supe world, that might be normal.

       "By his own admission, he conspired to make sure his wife's infidelity would be discovered. He is as guilty as the woman, and a coward for allowing Sookie to face the consequences of something that was ultimately his responsibility. He betrayed her trust," Eric stated, speaking like a prosecutor trying to convince the judge that the accused deserved the death penalty.

       "Yes," Sam agreed and Jason started screaming, which was an agonizing sound because he couldn't move his jaw. "You have claimed her?" her boss asked her bonded over her head.

       Eric nodded. "Yes."

       "Then it is your right, but... I gotta be honest, he ain't worth it."

       Eric seemed to digest this, and she got the feeling that the two of them had been talking about Supe political crap that she didn't understand. But what was really odd about the whole thing was that Sam was completely calm and talking to Eric as if they were... well... not  _friends_ , but colleagues. Oh, yeah, colleagues in the Keep Sookie Happy Club. It was just like the night Sam called Eric in order to get her to talk about what had happened. She scowled. Men.

       "Do I get a say in this?" she snapped peevishly.

       "Of course." "Sure." Both partners in crime replied in unison.

       "Then I've decided that I'd rather you not break Jason's hand."

       Eric leveled her with a look, his face stony, then abruptly released her brother's wrist.

       "As you wish, my lover. His punishment is your decision."

       Jason moaned with relief and gave her a grateful look. She glared at him.

       "I didn't do it for you. I did it because I don't want what he does to you on my conscience," she snarled.

       Eric stood at her shoulder, looming over her like a big, white grizzly bear. "Know this. If you ever harm her again, I will kill you."

       During all of this, Arlene and Catfish had been huddled together with twin expressions of disgust and fear on their faces, the two students from Ruston had bailed without paying their bill, and Jane Bodehouse had barely looked up from her beer, but now she was thinking that the whole situation was mighty funny. As things calmed down, Catfish was thinking he might be able to get the drop on Eric if Eric was distracted; he'd been the one who'd staked Charles Twinning after all.

       "Don't you dare, Shirley Hennessey," she warned, using Catfish's real name, then turned to Sam. "Sam, you got a first aid kit in your office, right?"

       "In the storeroom," her boss corrected.

       "Would you be willing to take Jason back there and I'll fix him up some?"

       Sam nodded.

       "Arlene, start cleaning up for Last Call," he said, then took Jason by the arm to drag him back to the storage room. She and Eric followed.

       "Do you think Dr. Ludwig would come out here this time of night?" she asked when they were out of non-Supe sight.

       Eric blinked at her and shrugged. "It is possible, but why? Do you not want him to suffer?"

       Part of her did, and that scared her. "You broke his jaw, Eric. He'll have to go to the hospital if we can't get him healed. If he does that, there will be questions."

       She gave him a look and he nodded, understanding, but couching his understanding with a disdainful thought about silly human social mores. In his book, Jason deserved to have his jaw broken every six weeks for the next year, just to get the point across. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

       "Call Dr. Ludwig. Please?"

       Her Viking gave a suffering sigh and pulled out his cell phone. She heard him talking to Pam while she went to see what could be done for Jason. Sam had given him some whiskey to help dull the pain, and Jason was looking less pissed-off, but his face was starting to swell and it wasn't going to be pretty.

       "I've asked Eric to call Dr. Ludwig," she said.

       Sam looked at her in surprise, but nodded. "Okay."

       "I don't want questions," she explained, then commanded her brother's attention. "I'm gonna see about getting you healed. I do this, we're even, understand? You leave Eric alone. Got it?"

       Jason grimaced as much as his swollen face would allow and nodded.

       "Do you want me to give him my blood?" she heard Eric ask from behind her.

       "No!" she refused vehemently as her brother made a furious negative sound through his bloody lips.

       Eric seemed disappointed. He was thinking that if he got his blood in Jason, then he could control Jason pretty easily, and that might solve a whole host of problems.

       "No," she repeated more firmly.

       Her Viking shrugged. "As you wish. Dr. Ludwig will be here momentarily."

       "How..." she began, but cut off when the little woman blipped into the storeroom.

       "I am here. What is so urgent that you needed me to come to this backwater at this time of night?" the doctor demanded, then caught sight of Jason. "Never mind, I see the problem."

       "I owe him the healing," Eric admitted grudgingly, casting Sookie an unhappy look. He was still thinking that it was better to let Jason suffer.

       "I'm going to go back to the bar and help Arlene," she stated and didn't wait for anyone to naysay her.

       Back in the front, Arlene was busy closing up the bar because it was only ten minutes to two. Catfish and Jane were still there. Catfish was waiting to see what had happened with Jason, and Jane... well, Jane...

       "I called her son," Arlene said snappishly as she wiped down the bar.

       "Thanks," she answered, going over to the table where the two college kids had been sitting, and collecting the empty plates and mugs. They'd stiffed her for $30.

        _'I will pay it,'_  came her vampire's immediate response.

       For once she didn't argue. It was his fault they'd run out anyway. Seeing a vampire come storming in and breaking someone's jaw was enough to send anyone running. She concentrated on her work and kept her shields up because she so did not want to know what Catfish and Arlene were thinking. It was much easier to block now that Eric was there.

       About fifteen minutes later, Sam came back out leading Jason. Eric followed. There was no sign of Dr. Ludwig, and she guessed the doctor had just blipped home, wherever home was. Her brother's head was wrapped in a dressing that supported his jaw, and his face was black and blue, but his eyes were bright. Catfish stood up.

       "You need me to take him to the hospital?" Jason's boss asked.

       "Nah. He's okay. Guy's got rocks for bones," Sam replied. "He shouldn't drive home though."

       Catfish nodded. "I'll take him."

       "Thanks, Catfish," she said.

       The man gave her a withering look that prompted Eric to lift one lip and show a bit of fang, before taking Jason out into the night. She was relieved to see them both go. Jane's son came in a minute later to collect his inebriated mother, and they left in short order after the boy paid Jane's tab. That left only, her, Arlene, Sam and Eric in the bar.

       "Sam, I'm gone," Arlene called, breezing out the door. She hadn't bothered to acknowledge Sookie or Eric on her way out.

       Oh yeah, that was another person who was now convinced that she was beyond saving. With all the people in Bon Temps who thought she was so wonderful, maybe going to work for Eric full-time wasn't such a bad idea. The only person she'd really miss was Sam... and maybe Terry. Terry was always nice to her.

       She looked at Eric, but his mind and face were suspiciously blank on the subject. She sighed. She was tired and worn out, and she wanted the night to be over. Eric felt her weariness and came over to put his arm around her, tucking her in next to his body. She practically sagged with weariness, and she didn't care if Eric held her in front of Sam. It struck her, then, that Sam was taking all of this remarkably well, and she turned to him, feeling guilty for once again being the cause of his upset.

       "Sam... thanks," she said, knowing it was inadequate, but it was all she had.

       She watched Eric and Sam exchange another one of those looks that made her very uncomfortable.

       "I don't appreciate someone coming in and beating up my customers, but in this case, I'll make an exception," her boss answered.

       "Jason's not that bad, Sam..."

       She stopped because Sam gave her such a glare that it shocked her.

       "You haven't been involved with Supes long enough to understand how serious what Jason did was. Yeah, Crystal broke her vows, but he was the one who manipulated the Seconds, and that's a big breach of trust. I don't even think  ** _Jason_**  knows how serious what he did was, but he'd better learn and fast. Supes aren't forgiving, Sookie. As far as I'm concerned, Jason got what he deserved, and if it had been up to me, I would've let Eric break his hand."

       The admission gave her pause because she suddenly had to reorient her view of her boss. Her confusion and shock must have shown on her face because Sam looked at Eric and shook his head sadly.

       "She doesn't understand, does she?"

       "No," Eric admitted in a tone of voice that said that little fact was exasperating and a source of deep frustration.

       The two Supes sighed in unison.

       "You should take her home. She worked hard tonight," Sam said.

       "I intend to, but first, would it be possible for Sookie to work the dayshift on Wednesday? I am planning a meeting at Fangtasia that requires her presence."

       Sam's eyes widened and his face grew grave. "You're making the announcement?"

       "Yes."

       "Okay then. I think I already had her down for lunch that day anyway."

       "Good."

       Okay, she was getting just a little fed up with being talked about as if she wasn't there. "Hello? I'm still here, y'know!"

       Eric smiled down at her, his eyes warm. "Of course, my lover. Are you ready to go? Have you finished all of your work?"

       "Yeah."

       "Go on, Sook. I'll see you tomorrow," Sam told her, giving Eric the shoo motion.

       Eric turned, somehow managing to turn her in the same smooth movement, and guided her out to the parking lot.

       "I will follow you to your house. We are staying in Ruston tonight, yes?" he asked, presenting her to her car.

       Half of her wanted to say that all she wanted to do was sleep in her own bed, but there was no privacy at her Gran's with Amelia and Octavia there, and no safe place for Eric to bed down during the day. And if she had to choose sleeping alone in her own bed or sleeping with Eric at the Ruston house, she'd choose Ruston.

_'It is not a choice, my lover. I will stay with you no matter where you wish to go.'_

       Which boiled it down to privacy or no privacy? She chose privacy.  _'Ruston.'_

_'As you wish.'_

       It was his new catchphrase. She was starting to think she was Buttercup in  _The_   _Princess Bride_.

        _'The what?'_  her Viking asked.

        _'It's a movie. Never mind,'_  she answered as she got into her car. Eric was already headed for his. A thousand years old, and he had missed most of the pivotal films in movie history.

 _'I heard that,'_ Eric complained.

 _'Yeah, yeah, yeah.'_  She started her car and pulled out of the lot. Eric's Corvette fell in behind her.

_'My lover, if you really want to rent a bunch of "chick flicks" and make me sit through them, you're going to have to make it worth my while.'_

_'What? Like watch them naked?'_  she joked as she turned onto the road.

        _'That's an idea,'_  he replied brightly.

        _'Sex between each film?'_

_'Even better.'_

She rolled her eyes.  _'You're insatiable.'_

_'You're just figuring that out?'_

       She laughed in spite of herself and shook her head. She turned onto Hummingbird Road and eased down her driveway a few moments later. Her house was dark and silent, which meant her two boarders had already gone to bed.

       They stayed long enough for her to leave a note for Octavia and Amelia telling them that she was spending the night with Eric and leaving her cell number in case of an emergency. Then she packed a change of clothes in her overnight bag and tried to put in a nightgown, but Eric promptly pounced on it and took it out.

        _'Planning on sleeping alone?'_  he asked, waggling his eyebrows as he held up the cotton shift.

        _'In case you haven't noticed, it's November and you don't have any body heat.'_

_'I will furnish our nest with an electric blanket to warm your chilly mortal toes.'_

_'Is there one there now?'_

_'No.'_

_'Then Holly Hobbie goes back in the bag,'_  she said, holding out her hand for the nightgown. He looked reluctant, so she wiggled her fingers at him, and he relented, handing her the shift with a shake of his head. She shoved the nightgown back into the bag and stuffed the fabulous bathrobe she'd gotten on Isle Elena in there, too.

        _'My subjects will think you have defanged me,'_  he complained sullenly.

       There was an edge to it, a warning that put a single cold finger at the back of her neck, and she paused.

 _'Eric... I'll never make you look weak in front of your subjects,'_  she promised.

       He blinked at her, surprised, then he nodded.  _'That would be the safest and wisest thing to do.'_

       She'd definitely hit something dead on. The vampire hierarchy was based on age, intelligence and strength. Eric could not appear to be henpecked by a human woman, and the understanding brought new clarity to her. In a way, she'd always known it, but it was only now that it was truly coming home to roost. No matter how amiable and reasonable Eric might be with her in private, once they were in public, he had to be the leader and she had to accept that even if it sometimes rankled her American sensibilities.

        _'Ready to go?'_  he asked.

_'Yep.'_

       He smiled at her, and they left as silently as they had come, taking the Taurus and leaving her Malibu and his Corvette parked behind the house.

       "Is the announcement Wednesday night when you will tell everyone that we're bonded?" she asked when they were both in the car and headed down Hummingbird Road. Eric was driving again.

       "Yes." It was a simple answer, but she felt that there was more to it.

       "You will tell them that I am yours," she pressed.

       He nodded and she could feel his tension in the bond. He knew how she felt about being possessed, but she was fast figuring out that it wasn't about how either of them really felt, but more about how it  ** _looked_**.

       "Yes, I will declare you as mine," he finally answered, his voice careful.

       She licked her lip, swallowing that and accepting it. "Okay. That's okay. Will you tell them that you are mine?"

       She saw him consider her words and knew he was thinking hard, but she refrained from tapping his mind to see what he was thinking.

       "I... will tell any human or Supe that I am faithful to you."

       "That you have a companion," she said, remembering Bill's words that first trip to Fangtasia. The night her world changed forever.

       "That, too, but more. I will say I am your bonded, that you are... my mate, and I am yours."

       She processed that as he merged onto to the Interstate. "Eric... are we... married now, by vamp standards?"

       "What we have is deeper and more profound than any words or scraps of paper."

       Well, that was her answer.

       "But... I have told you that I will marry you according to your human customs anytime, if that is what you wish."

       She nodded and tried to picture it like she had on Isle Elena: her in white, him in a tux – the tux he'd worn that one time she went to the Dracula's birthday party at Fangtasia – flowers, cake and candles. Who would stand for her? Pam? Amelia? They were possibly the only two women on the planet who would be happy for her, and Pam's happiness was iffy. Who would give her away? Jason? (Yeah, right!) Sam? Niall? (Oh  ** _that_**  would be good. A fairy at a vampire wedding.) Who would Eric ask to be his Best Man? Clancy? Russell Eddington? Sam? Some vamp she didn't know? Who would officiate? Where would they have the ceremony?

       Vegas came to mind and she giggled. "We could get married in Vegas with one of those Elvis impersonators as the priest."

       "You want  ** _Bubba_**  to be our officiant?" he blurted with great offense.

       The look on his face made her burst out laughing.

       "I could walk down the aisle to  _The Hawaiian Wedding Song,_  and we could dance to  _Viva Las Vegas_  as our first dance," she teased.

       "I am not wearing a white spangled jumpsuit or cutting my hair into sideburns."

       "What  _would_  happen if you cut your hair?" She'd never asked Bill about how vampires regenerated. She knew that they remained forever as they were when they died, but she didn't know what would happen if say... one of them wanted a new hairstyle or a tattoo.

       "It would grow back over the course of the day."

       She looked at his long locks. "Just a day?"

       He nodded.

       Wow. That was impressive. No bad hair days or unfixable "hair accidents."

       "Wow."

       "I can show you. I can shave my head before dawn, and you can watch it grow back while I am asleep."

       "You just said you wouldn't cut your hair."

       "I said I wouldn't cut it to sideburns," he corrected.

       Somehow the idea of him shaving his head just so she could watch his hair grow back was just creepy, but touching in its own way. She knew he pampered and fussed over his golden locks. Apparently, Vikings had a hair fetish. She remembered reading that one of the most common artifacts found in archeological digs from the Viking Era were combs. Not that she'd been looking that sort of thing up or anything.

       The fact that he was willing to make the sacrifice was, actually, really nice. Who else would shave his head for her? It had to be love.

       "Ah. Well, while I appreciate the offer, you don't have to do that for me."

       "I do cut it sometimes. If I dye it, then I will shave it off at the end of the night, and it will be back to normal the following evening. And I've used my hair for things in a pinch for rope or binding. Our hair is very strong."

       She blinked. That was very interesting. She'd never even thought about that, and since he seemed to be in a chatty mood, she continued the conversation.

       "What happens to the cut hair? Does it flake away like vamp bodies do?"

       "No. It lasts forever unless you burn it."

       "Really?"

       He nodded. "I will make you a braid of my hair as a present sometime and give it to you. For your birthday, perhaps."

       She tried to imagine him giving her a lock of his hair as a keepsake, and she found that she liked the idea. "That'd be really sweet of you."

       "Anything for you, my lover," he replied, completely without guile.

       They were "home," the little cottage softly lit by diffused security lights that came on when they tripped the motion sensors. It was still as charming as the first time she'd seen it, and she smiled at Eric as he pressed a button on the overhead console to open the garage door.

       "I am glad you like our nest," he said softly.

       "I do. I really do," she assured him.

       He leaned over to kiss her as he unbuckled her seatbelt. "I know."

       They both got out of the car, and she moved to go to the door, but Eric was suddenly in front of her, looking down at her with warm eyes. Before she had a chance to ask what was going on, he bent down and kissed her forcefully. She reached up to grab his arms because he was making her knees go weak. When he finally pulled back, she was panting and her heart was hammering in her chest. He gave her his signature smirk, and she knew she was in trouble.

       "I may not have seen  _The Princess Bride_ , my lover, but I  _have_  seen  _Gone With the Wind_."

       And with that he picked her up and carried her, Rhett-style, into the house.


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

_Chapter Twenty-Six_

       "Victor was at Fangtasia tonight," he whispered softly.

       They were in bed, snuggled together in contented post-coital bliss. She was naked. They'd stopped at the 24-hour Wal-mart and picked up an electric blanket. Now her toes (and the rest of her) were nice and toasty, and Eric didn't seem to be complaining either. Knowing what she knew of vampires, she could guess that he was enjoying the warmth as much as she was.

       But if the blanket was keeping her warm, his almost too casual statement made her blood run cold.

       "What did he want?" she asked, trying not to sound too horrified.

       "Probably to find out why we're still alive," he stated matter-of-factly.

       "What did you do?"

       "I played ignorant, and when he started trying to accuse me of something, I told him that I'd taken you on vacation."

       "Did he buy that?"

       "He did after I showed him the pictures. He recognized Maria Piazzi," he said.

       "He did?"

       He nodded. "He also figured out that we were on Isle Elena."

       She gasped and shivered. "Oh no. Is that bad?"

       He shrugged. "Isle Elena has a well-known reputation, so I am not surprised that he knew of it. But his knowledge worked in our favor."

       "It did?"

       "Yes. Once it was known that I'd taken you to the sanctuary on Isle Elena, any argument Victor would have tried to make regarding my plotting against the King, or some other insubordination, would have fallen through. No one would have believed him," he explained.

       "That's good. That's really good," she said with relief, feeling Eric's smug pleasure through the bond.

       "He  _was_  planning something. My Hammer starting tingling a warning when I got too close to him so he must have had some kind of silver on him."

       "Did it transform?"

       "No, it just vibrated a little. I think it will only transform when the threat is immanent," he commented.

       The necklace in question wasn't far from her face, and it rested against his chest, gleaming pewter against his marble white skin. They'd found that they needed to do something with it when they made love with him atop her, otherwise the pendant "hammered" her in the nose. Eric had taken to sliding it around to rest between his shoulder blades to get it out of the way.

       "I'm glad. If it had started glowing in front of him, that would have been bad."

       "Hlin will take care of me," he said with complete confidence. "All the same, we should run some tests to see when it transforms. Will it glow only when silver is touching me, or will it flare when silver gets within a certain proximity? We should try to determine where the breaking point is."

       She nodded, not really looking forward to that, but understanding his position. "Okay. So what happened with Victor?"

       "Once he knew the tables had been turned on him, and I wasn't giving him any indication that we'd been ambushed, he took the opportunity to retreat with grace," he replied, a feral smile on his lips. His fangs had even come down a little.

       "So you just let him leave then."

       "Yes, it was for the best."

       She nodded, understanding his point even if the thought of Victor still walking around and able to plot against them made her nervous.

       "I will never allow anything to happen to you," he reasserted confidently.

       She snuggled closer, pressing her cheek to his silent chest. "I know."

       He was quiet for a few moments, holding her and letting her calm down, before he spoke again. "There is something else I must discuss with you, my lover," he said in a careful voice.

        _'Uh oh...'_  "Okay," she answered, equally carefully.

       "Victor will be at the announcement on Wednesday."

       She shivered, processing and getting control of her fear. Eric was calm so that meant that he wasn't worried that Victor would pull something at the meeting.

       "Okay," she finally said.

       "Wednesday is also the night of your punishment. I have ordered a dress for you to wear," he added with a bit of an edge to his voice that dared her to challenge him.

       She gulped. She knew she had agreed to his terms, but if he was warning her now...

       "Don't you dare make me look like a fangbanger whore, Eric Northman," she replied very sternly.

       Anger arced through the bond, but she felt him stamp it down. "You will never refer to yourself by that term in my presence. Is that clear?"

        _'Whoa...'_  His vehemence was a little scary, actually. "Okay."

       "You are my lover, my bonded. I hold you in the highest esteem. There is nothing dirty or low about you. You are my princess, and you will be treated as such."

       She snorted. "I'm no princess."

       He tightened his arm around her. "No, you are my Queen. There is no one who holds my heart closer. As you are mine, so I am yours. We are each other's. No one can come between us. We are one in heart and mind."

        _'Literally,'_  she thought.

        _'Yes,'_  he agreed, then said aloud, "You have no idea how much comfort I gain by knowing that we can hear each other's thoughts. I want to keep trying to extend our range. I almost heard you while I was in Fangtasia tonight."

       "I did hear you. I think. Well, I'm pretty sure I did."

       He smiled. "That is wonderful. I know I could feel you. That's how I knew to come to your side."

       She sighed and snuggled closer. "I'm glad you did."

       He laughed softly and stroked her hair. "How glad?" he whispered teasingly.

       She snickered and raised up to kiss him. "Very glad."

       He gave her his signature leer and pulled her atop him.

       Much later, after she had cleaned up and made sure the room was light proofed, they were in bed again, limbs entwined, and Eric had her tucked against him.

       "We must discuss our plan," he said gently.

       "Plan? We have a plan?" she answered, yawning. As usual, he'd worn her out, and all she wanted to do was go to dreamland in his arms.

       He chuckled and kissed her forehead. "My sleepy lover. I am too much for you."

       "Not usually," she sighed back. "It's this bed. It's too comfortable."

       "Mmmm. Are you sure it isn't my amazing pleasuring skills that have exhausted you?"

       "That could be part of it," she admitted.

       "Then this conversation must wait until you are more awake. I need you alert and paying attention, my lover."

       "Okay," she murmured, already feeling sleep coming to take her down into that warm, safe place where she was too comfortable to move. The last thing she remembered was his gentle touch and soft words of love before she was gone.

       When she woke the clock read 11:22, and she knew it was daytime by Eric's dead weight next to her. He'd fallen asleep wrapped around her, and she had to lift his arm in order to slip out of bed, but the great thing about sleeping with a vampire was that she never had to worry about him being a light sleeper.

       She showered and dressed in the soft clothes she'd packed in her bag, musing to herself that she ought to bring some things over from her house to keep in the dresser in "her" room. She didn't have to be at work until 8pm, so she had all day to lounge around and do nothing if she so chose, and that is what she opted to do.

       She started a fire in the fireplace with wood from the pile stacked in the woodshed behind the house, and made breakfast from the food she had bought at Wal-mart. Her milk was sitting right next to a six-pack of TrueBlood on the top shelf, and she smiled at the irony.

       Armed with coffee, a bowl of oatmeal and a glass of juice, she settled onto the sofa by the fire and enjoyed a quiet, relaxed morning. Afterwards, she washed the dishes and did a little exploring. Eric had equipped the kitchen with the basics, but there were items that were missing simply because a vampire wouldn't even think about them. For instance, there was a microwave, toaster and coffee machine, but no blender, food processor or mixer. There were plates, glasses and silverware, but no mixing bowls or serving pieces.

       She began making a list of all the things the house needed, but then wondered why she was bothering. No one was going to be coming over. It was their secret nest as Eric had described it. She wouldn't be baking or entertaining there so what did she need a food processor or servingware for? The blender, however, was always a good thing to have, but she crossed off a bunch of other stuff that she figured she would never need, so why spend money on them.

       The house was three bedrooms, but the smallest bedroom was actually furnished as an office with a dual station computer desk and filing cabinets, and there was a brand new-looking PC at one of the stations with a flat screen monitor. The room was neat and tidy, and she didn't have to wonder if there was high speed Internet.

       Everywhere she looked, there were little details that spoke of how well Eric knew her. From the pattern on the dishes to the designs on the potholders and kitchen cloths, to the color and texture of the towels and the kinds of soaps in the bathrooms, everything was suited to her tastes. There was even a bookcase in the living room with mysteries and romance novels from authors she liked.

       The "nest" was designed and decorated for her pleasure and comfort. The only places that had any of Eric's touch were the master suite and "his" section of the office. Those places were much more masculine, and there was even a bronze cast of a Viking longship on the hutch by the desk in the office. She smiled when she saw that, then sat at the desk and booted the computer.

       The system wasn't password protected so she was able to get right on and do a couple of things on the Internet, like sign up for an email account and look up some information on Google. When she was done, she wrote down her new email address on a pad of paper she found in the desk drawer and left the information next to the mouse for Eric to find when he got up.

       By the time she was finished puttering around and surfing the Internet, it was almost 4pm, and Eric would be getting up in about an hour and a half. She opted to go back to bed and snuggle with him so she'd be there when he woke, and to that end she undressed and slid in beside her Viking. He didn't even budge when she nudged him to roll onto his back so she could tuck her head into the crook of his shoulder. Somehow his lack of heartbeat and breathing were actually comforting to her. Bill's chest had been silent, too, and she had come to associate that with normal, so she cuddled right up and put her arm across his chest. She was asleep in minutes.

       Eric's deep hum woke her an hour later as he sniffed and nuzzled her, poking his nose into a couple of soft places that tickled. She jerked and giggled, making him hum deeper, his whole chest vibrating with pleasure.

       "There is nothing I like more than to wake up with you tucked against me, my lover. It is the world's biggest turn on," he whispered huskily.

       She could tell. His interest was pressed hard (very hard) against her thigh, and her libido was waking up with the rest of her. He felt her arousal and purred, his big hands beginning to work their magic.

        _'So beautiful. So alluring,'_  he was thinking, his thoughts clouded with lust and love and hunger.

       She gasped, letting his emotions wash over into her and merge with her own desire and need, as she arched her back and spread her legs so he could rest between them. Her hands slid down the cool satin of his back to cup the globes of her favorite part of him, and she heard him chuckle when she squeezed.

       "I must get a mirror for this room too," he teased, nibbling her earlobe. His fangs were down, but he wasn't biting.

       "Mmmm," she agreed, lifting her legs a little to center him. His erection was pinned against her pubic bone, and she wanted it to be... lower. He chuckled in her ear.

       "Why so impatient, my lover? I want to savor you before I devour you."

       His reference to eating her shouldn't have made her shudder with lust, but it did.

       "Eric, please..."

       "No need to beg, my lover. I'll give you all that you want and more, over and over again until you are nothing more than a shivering mass of pleasure."

       She groaned and dug her nails into his ass, urging him to get on with it, but he was in a "mood" and that mood was s-l-o-w. She wanted to scream by the time he finally got his mouth down to the juncture of her thighs and his fingers in place. He fed from her femoral artery then moved his mouth over, working her to a frenzy as she gripped his head and writhed on his tongue. She did scream as she came, then gasped when he mounted her, flipping the Hammer behind his neck before it whacked her in the jaw.

       They moved together, each feeding the other's passion, the sounds of their union filling her ears – his grunts matched with her panting, each moan accompanied by a companion cry of pleasure. He filled every part of her with himself, and she filled him, until they climaxed in unison, each clinging to the other as they shuddered together.

       Afterwards, he'd held her, his long fingers combing through her hair as she caught her breath and came down from the high. Sex with Eric was always a profound experience, much more than it had ever been with Bill or Quinn. Bill had been good to be sure, but making love with Eric seemed so much more. It always felt as if Bill was holding something back from her (which indeed he was: the truth), and there was always that distance between them, a gulf that was never bridged. With Eric, there was no gulf or bridge or separation. He gave everything of himself every time. Whether it was a quick tumble or a long, slow seduction, she always knew she had 100-percent of him all of the time.

       What a difference it made.

       Now as she lay, sated and content, feeling the soft brush of his fingers and hearing the low hum in his chest, she felt complete. She'd never felt so whole with Bill or Quinn. She knew it wasn't fair to compare Eric with the others, but she couldn't help herself. Only Eric had ever made her feel as if she was the only thing in his world that really mattered.

       "You are," he murmured softly, his lips at the top of her head, his hand drawing her ever closer against him.

       "Eric..." she began, sliding her arm across his chest.

       "Yes, my lover?"

       "Do you think Bill ever really loved me?"

       What a question to ask him! And she winced the moment the words left her mouth, but she couldn't take them back. She waited to see how he would respond, hoping that she hadn't ruined the Moment. He was silent for a long time, and she respectfully stayed out of his head until he finally replied.

       "Yes. I do believe that he did."

       She let out the breath she was holding as the tension ran out of her. "Thank you."

       "For what?"

       "For telling me that."

       He shrugged. "I will not lie to you, my lover."

       She nodded. "It's just that... I gave him everything, and it didn't seem to be enough. I mean, even before the bit with Lorena, I felt like I was losing him."

       "He had too many secrets. Your relationship was never open or honest. Such pairings rarely last very long. They are smothered under the weight of their own baggage," he commented sagely.

       "And ours is? Honest?"

       "Of course. I have never hidden my attraction to you. I have always been up front with you. If I needed your talents, I told you straight away. I never dithered or tried to manipulate you into it."

       She huffed and tapped the bullet embedded in his Hammer. "You tricked me into sucking out that bullet. You told me it wouldn't pop out on its own."

       "And yet you kept it," he pointed out. "But you are right. I did lie. I did it because I could already see the fissures forming between you and Bill, and I wanted to stake my claim as soon as possible. I wanted my blood in you so I would know where you were and if you were in danger. Losing track of you in Dallas was a difficult situation. For all the blood Compton gave you, he proved completely useless in tracking your whereabouts."

       She huffed again, conceding his point, but still not overjoyed at being manipulated, but, she reasoned, that was just something vampires did. Conniving bastards.

       "Of course," he agreed without guilt.

       She sighed. "So... you think Bill really did love me?"

       "Yes, in as much as someone like him could love."

       "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded a little defensively.

       "My lover, I have seen Bill's type countless times. Men who are emotionally detached in life and who remain so in death. They are loners, best left to themselves because they simply do not associate well with others. The Queen should never have asked him to go to Bon Temps, let alone seduce you. That was an error on her part, and one I have yet to understand. She was usually so canny and astute."

       "Maybe she figured it wouldn't take Bill all that long to get me under his control," she offered.

       He laughed at that. "How shocked he must have been to find that you were immune to his glamour."

       "Have you ever met other humans who couldn't be glamoured?"

       "Of course. It's a sign that they are very stubborn and probably not worth the trouble," he teased.

       She poked him in the side and he chuckled, then sobered. "But, yes, I have met those who were immune to my powers. Usually they were very strong-minded individuals with a concrete sense of self. Such people are extremely hard to influence, but often can be very valuable nonetheless. Some of my most loyal subjects have been ones I could not control. And in not being able to control them, they reminded me of the depth and breadth of the human spirit."

       He kissed her forehead and nuzzled her affectionately. "Like you, my lover. You never cease to amaze me with how steadfast and loyal you are."

       The admission made her feel warm and she smiled. "Thank you. You're... ahh, pretty loyal too, y'know."

       "Oh yes. Once you have me, I am yours."

       "I know. I just don't know how long I'll get to keep you," she admitted.

       He put one finger under her chin and made her look at him. "A very long time, my lover. As long as you will have me."

       "We've gotta do something about Victor first," she said worriedly.

       "Yes," he agreed, his face going stony. "And to that effect, we must talk about our plan."

       "Because we have one."

       "Oh yes. There is always a plan. Sometimes there are many plans, but there is always at least one."

       She smiled. "So what is our plan?"

       His eyes grew concerned, and she knew that she wasn't going to like "the plan."

       "You're not," he said.

       She put on her stubborn face and waited. Her action actually amused him, and he smiled at her.

       "As I have said, Victor has lots of followers. Most of them have relocated to New Orleans to serve as his investigators and enforcers, but a few have been parceled out as spies. No doubt one of them is the one responsible for bugging Fangtasia."

       "Have you discovered the source of the leak?" she asked.

       "No, but I hired someone to sweep the bar and clean the computers. He was to do the job today. I will check my voicemail in a little while to see if he found anything."

       "What about your cellphones?"

       "We're getting new ones. You too."

       "Me? Why me? How could someone have bugged my phone?" she asked.

       "There are devices that can scan cell phone transmissions and record the data signature so it can be found more easily," he answered.

       She frowned, but knew better than to argue. "Don't get me anything fancy," she warned.

       He waggled his eyebrows at her, and she knew the new phone would be the least of her problems.

       "Okay, so new phones and a bug sweep of Fangtasia are part of the plan. What's the rest of it?" she questioned.

       "I have decided that a frontal assault on Victor would be unwise. He is too well protected and connected, so we must opt for a more... subtle tactic."

       She was starting to get with the program, and he was right, she didn't like where her thoughts were taking her.

       "You want me to read his mind," she stated.

       "Yes. I want you to glean the locations of his daytime sleeping places. Like me, he almost certainly has more than one. We need to know where he shelters during the day. I will give you my blood on Wednesday night before the announcement so you will be at your peak."

       "You know that I'm gonna have to touch him for that," she reminded.

       He scowled, but nodded. "I know, and I have a... plan for allowing him closer access to you. As Sheriff of Area One, and Felipe's henchman, he will be allowed some... liberties... "

       She gasped. "Eric, there is no way I am letting him bite me!"

       He snorted and looked at her as if she was an alien. "Of course not. You are mine, and after the announcement, everyone will know you are mine. If he tries to harm you, I can kill him."

       "Is that your plan?"

       He shook his head. "No. I was hoping to dispose of him quietly."

       She thought about that for a minute. "That's why you want to know where he shelters for the day. You want to get him right when he wakes up."

       He raised his hand and showed her the Trojan Horse ring. "Or before."

       The ring, combined with one of Eros's mint leaves, would... She gasped, her eyes opening wide. "A daytime attack."

       He nodded. "Think of it, Sookie. What if Victor just... vanished? No one would suspect me because I can't move about in the daytime. No one would suspect you because you are a human."

       "But I've killed vamps before," she reminded.

       "Not like Victor, and if he simply disappears from his hiding place how would anyone connect his disappearance with you?"

       She had to admit, it was pretty brilliant as far as plans went, if they could pull it off.

       "So, how am I supposed to get close enough to Victor to touch him and pick his brain?"

       He gave her a mischievous smile. "I intend to engineer a little... disturbance at the announcement on Wednesday; one that will require you to be guarded while I take care of things. I will call on Victor to keep you safe in my office. From there, you will be left to use your considerable skills to get what we need."

       She blinked at him. "What are you planning?"

       "It is best if you not know so your reaction will be genuine."

       That made sense, but she didn't have to like it, and from the gleeful light in his eyes, she  _really_  wasn't going to like it.

_'No, but it will be all right. You must trust me, my lover, and do as I say.'_

       She huffed, her natural stubbornness rising to the fore, but she stamped it down. She'd promised, and she had to trust Eric to know what he was doing. It was hard, and she knew there would be times when he'd pushed it too far, but she'd vowed to make this work, so she had to start somewhere.

       "Okay."

       He gave her a genuine smile and kissed her lovingly. "Thank you my lover. I promise you that you will not be disappointed. Once Victor is out of the way, we will be safe."

       "You hope," she countered.

       "If Victor suddenly vanishes, the mystery will keep his followers scrambling for a time, trying to find him and figure out what happened," he answered. "During that time, I can solidify my position with Felipe, and garner my own supporters."

       "Will you take over Area One?"

       He made such a disgusted face that she laughed. "Uh... no. I have no desire to rule New Orleans. Felipe will need a Sheriff who is much more of a... how do you say? People person? Than I am. Vampires in New Orleans work closely with the human government there, and I have never been good at... liaising with human politicians."

       She poked him. "Oh, I dunno, I've seen you kiss ass pretty well."

       He scowled. "Only with vampires. Besides, New Orleans is a Mecca for vampires, and they tend to go hog wild, especially at Mardi Gras. I have no desire to constantly be dealing with idiotic vamps who don't want to follow the rules just because they are on vacation. Leave that chore to someone else."

       She smiled and stroked his chest to soothe his ruffled pride. "You like your little corner of northern Louisiana."

       "No hurricanes, fewer vamps to rein in, almost exclusive rights to the market... I have all the good things I would have in New Orleans with half of the hassle. So yes, I like my little corner of Louisiana just fine."

       "Me too," she agreed.

       She hadn't really liked New Orleans before Katrina. She liked it even less now. The city was like a ragged wound, scarred and tough where the skin had been torn away. It looked healed on the surface, but it was red and puckered, and pockets of infection still festered underneath. She didn't blame Eric for not wanting to deal with rebuilding the city and trying to force a corrupt and apathetic government to keep their end of the bargain. Eric was much more likely to go in with sword swinging and start chopping off heads.

       "I'd start with that imbecile of a mayor," her Viking agreed. "Then work my way down to the Corps of Engineers responsible for the levies. I'd make New Orleans a true vampire city."

       She snorted. "I doubt the human population would like that much."

       "Why not? We would keep order, rebuild the city, and it would never flood again. We would restore her to her former glory and prosperity would follow. Everyone would profit. The humans would worship us."

       He seemed pretty sure about that.

       "You don't think they'd have a problem being ruled by vampires?"

       "Why should they? They're ruled by human blood suckers now."

       That made her laugh, and she tucked her head into the crook of his shoulder as she giggled. He laughed with her and stroked her side, thumbing her breast teasingly. That sobered her up right quick.

       "On a more... pleasing note," he purred, running his tongue along her neck. "Monday is my photoshoot for the new Fangtasia calendar. It would make me very happy if you would accompany me."

       "Gonna be Mr. January again?" she answered, arching her neck. He loved that, and let her know with a deep, throaty growl.

       "I'd be every month for you, my lover."

       "Mmmm, a year of naked Viking. Hmmmm..."

       "Shall I have a... private calendar made just for you? And perhaps, one for me?"

       "You want twelve months of you naked on your office wall?"

       He barked a short laugh before he nibbled her earlobe.

        _'No, silly. Twelve months of **you**_ _naked.'_

 _'Oh, so everyone who comes into your office can see my boobs?'_  she teased. She knew through the bond that he was being playful and not really serious.

_'It would not be available for public display.'_

_'What do you need it for when you've got the real thing right here?'_

       She put his hands on the aforementioned parts and was rewarded by his fingers massaging her flesh.

_'It would be something I could use as a reminder if a particularly alluring customer comes into the bar. I could pull it out and fill my head with images of you to block out any temptation.'_

_'Because your perfect memory isn't good enough.'_

       He snickered.  _'Perhaps I should try to negotiate this after I have made you climax a few times.'_

        _'Perhaps, but I can't guarantee I'll change my mind.'_

_'Then I shall have to keep trying.'_

_'Somehow I don't think you'll be too upset about that.'_

       He slid on top of her, his hips fitting between her legs as perfectly as those little dolls that fit into each other.

        _'You'd be right,'_ he agreed just before he drowned her in a sea of bliss.

       It was close to six-thirty by the time they left the house. She was already dressed for work, but both of their regular cars were in Bon Temps, so they drove to her house. Eric was in a very good mood, humming and smiling at her as he drove one-handed down the Interstate at speeds that weren't just illegal but pretty close to the sound barrier – or at least it felt like it. The poor Ford was rattling like her old car used to once she got above sixty.

       He hadn't won the calendar argument, but he hadn't lost it either. They'd tabled the negotiations for tomorrow after she'd gotten off work. Tomorrow she would see his house in Shreveport, and she was just a little excited about that.

       "You shouldn't be. It's nothing special," he commented, but she could tell he was pleased that she was eager to see his home.

       "I just can't imagine what a 1000 year-old Viking's house would look like," she answered with a shrug.

       "Well, I don't have dirt floors and furs for blankets, if that's what you're thinking," he said a little defensively.

       "Oh no, no. I know that. You said it was furnished with good furniture. I'm just interested in seeing how you decorated your space. You can tell a lot about a person by how they arrange their home."

       He shrugged and passed a semi at an obscene speed. The lights from the trailer were nothing but a blur.

       "Lots of wood and leather. I like things natural and uncluttered. I prefer earth tones ñ browns and tans with some red here and there. I have wood floors with area rugs, except in the bedroom. That has carpeting. I have one bear skin rug made from a Kodiak Bear I killed in Alaska about two hundred years ago."

       "Is it in front of the fireplace?" she teased.

       He grinned. "How did you know?"

       "Just a guess."

       He laughed.

       "What about your bedroom? What's it like?" she asked.

       "Well, I have a very big bed, of course."

       "King size?"

       "California King. They're a bit bigger."

       "Ah. What kind of bedframe?"

       "It's custom made. A carved platform with an oak headboard."

       She tried to picture it, but couldn't, and figured trying to get the image out of his head would ruin the moment when he did actually bring her there.

       They arrived at the house to find Amelia and Octavia talking in the kitchen. They seemed real serious about something.

       "Hi, guys, what's up? Everything okay?" she asked, but she'd already garnered that not all was well.

       Eric came up to stand by her shoulder in a defensive position, and she knew from the looks on the two witches' faces that the look on his was predatory. Eric really had no love for witches since Hallow's coven had cursed him.

       Octavia was the first one to speak. "I've decided that it's time for me to go back to New Orleans. I've taken advantage of your hospitality for too long, and New Orleans needs people to go back to her and help her rebuild."

       It wasn't like she was unhappy to hear the news, but she still felt bad.

       "Please don't feel like you have to move out because..." Because what? Because her lover was a card-carrying member of the undead? "Because of me and Eric," she finished weakly.

       Eric put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

       The older witch shook her head. "Your relationship does not bother me. I saw many human-vampire couples in New Orleans. No, my decision is influenced by my feeling that powers beyond my ken are moving within the circles you walk, and I want no part of them. You bring home stones of protection not found on this world, and your vampire wears an object that is Godtouched. It is obvious that someone very powerful feels that you are in danger and in need of Divine protection. I've had enough of fighting and being at odds with others. I am getting older and I want peace. Judging by the forces at work here, peace is not something that will be common in your life. I worry about you, and I will pray for you, but I cannot help you. I don't want to be involved."

       A lump formed in her throat and tears welled in her eyes, but she kept them at bay. Eric's strength and comfort flowed into her, giving her courage.

       "I understand. I'm sorry you feel that way, but I don't blame you," she said quietly.

       Octavia nodded to her and left the kitchen. She was almost afraid to look at Amelia. When the going got tough, most people bailed like rats from a sinking ship.

        _'I will never leave you,'_  Eric assured her, pressing himself to her back, both hands on her shoulders now.

       "I'm sorry about that," Amelia apologized.

       "No, it's okay. I can't blame her for wanting out. I'm not too happy about what's happening either," she said, hoping she sounded understanding.

       Amelia just shrugged.

       "And what about you?" Eric suddenly asked. "Can my bonded count on you to stand by her or will you be leaving as well?"

       The way he said "my bonded" gave her shivers. Amelia looked offended.

       "I won't abandon my best girlfriend because her life just got more complicated. It's when times are tough that you find out who your real friends are."

       Eric nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Fair enough. You are a good friend Amelia Broadway."

       "I try to be, and Sookie stuck by me through some rough times."

       She smiled and felt all warm and loved. It was so nice to have true friends.

       "Thanks, Amelia."

       "But that doesn't mean I won't be spending a lot of time with Tray. Y'all are gonna want your privacy, and, no offense, but the energy vamps put out when they're having sex... Well, it's no fun if you're all by your lonesome," the witch admitted, flushing a bit.

       "Privacy is not an issue, and if you find that my and Sookie's lovemaking leaves you... unsatisfied, I am willing to call Pam. I am sure she would be happy to see to your... needs."

       She wanted to smack him, both mentally and physically, but he was so wickedly gleeful that she had to swallow her laugh. "Eric!" she scolded.

       He just looked innocently at her. Amelia chuckled.

       "Thanks, but I like Tray just fine. Not that Pam wasn't... fun, but..."

       "Understood," Eric said.

       "Well, I need to grab something to eat, then get to work," she piped up before Eric could suggest the foursome he'd just thought of, and went over to the refrigerator to pull out some leftovers.  _'Not on your undead life.'_

       His mental laughter rang in her head.

       "Amelia," she heard her Viking say while she was scooping out a portion of pasta onto a plate, silently lamenting that she would have to forgo garlic bread. "On Tuesday someone will come from a security company to install an alarm system. There will also be someone coming next week to install FiOS high speed Internet."

       "Whoo hoo!  ** _Yes!_**  No more dial-up. You are one awesome vamp!" her friend exclaimed.

       "Yes. I intend to drag my bonded, kicking and screaming, into the twenty-first century whether she likes it or not," he vowed with a flourish.

       "No complaints there," Amelia agreed, winking at her. She stuck out her tongue as she put her dinner down on the table.

       "Baby, would you like a blood?" she asked sweetly.

       Eric leered and patted his stomach down low on his body. "Oh, no thank you,  _dearest_ , I'm quite... satisfied."

       She flushed and looked away, scowling. She'd hoped to embarrass him, but as usual, he was shameless.

_'I'm a thousand years old, my lover. Very little embarrasses me.'_

       She rolled her eyes as Amelia giggled.

       "Well, I will let you two alone. I'm sure Octavia expects my help packing," her friend said with a knowing smile.

       "Is she leaving tonight?" she asked.

       "Tomorrow morning."

       "Okay. Does she have somewhere to go?"

       "Yeah. Don't worry about Octavia, Sookie. She can take care of herself," Amelia assured her.

       "I still feel bad. I feel like I'm chasing her away."

       Amelia shrugged. "Her choice."

       "Aren't you worried yourself?"

       "Sure, but I figure anyone who has Divine Power on their side, is the side I wanna be on," the witch answered, then bounced out of the kitchen.

       Sookie watched her go with a warm smile on her face.

       "It's times like these when you really find out who your friends are," she commented.

       Eric sidled up and put his arm around her, his eyes warm and happy. "Yes." His mouth turned up into a sly smile and he bumped her with his hip. "Still offering that blood?"

       She huffed. "I thought you said you were satisfied."

       "That was then. This is now."

       She rolled her eyes and sat down to eat her dinner, ignoring his unhappy look.

       "Hey, you ate already," she complained. "Twice."

       He licked his lips. "And yet I am hungry for more."

       "Horndog," she muttered, shoving a forkful of penne into her mouth. Well, he was just going to have to wait if he wanted thirds.

_'But wait... you're going to stay in Shreveport tonight, aren't you? I work lunch shift tomorrow so it's my turn to drive to you.'_

_'I've changed my mind about that. It's too soon for us to be away from each other. I learned that last night. I'll drive down after Fangtasia closes and join you here. Did you want to go back to Ruston or stay here?'_  he sent back, coming to stand behind her so he could massage her shoulders.

        _'Ruston. Octavia is leaving so the hidey hole will be accessible again, but not by tonight,'_  she told him, leaning into his touch and sighing with bliss between bites.

        _'Am I allowed to be relieved that she is moving out?'_

_'Yeah. I kinda feel that way myself.'_

_'I know.'_

       She finished her dinner and looked at the clock as she stood and put her dish in the sink. It read seven-fifteen. She had forty-five minutes before she had to be at work.

       "Would you...?" she asked, offering her wrist.

       He smiled and bent down to kiss the throbbing vein, but he did not bite. "Thank you, my lover, but I don't have time. I told Pam I would be at Fangtasia by eight."

       "You'd better get moving then," she said with a pang. She didn't like being away from him any more than he did. So much for her being an independent woman.

       "You will always be your own. Even if I say you are mine, you are always mine by your own choice," he murmured, kissing the back of her hand.

       The sweet gesture made butterflies flutter in her belly. "So... I guess I'll see you after work then?"

       "Provided no more incidents bring me to you earlier, yes," he replied, placing his big hands on her waist and pulling her close for a kiss.  _'I love you.'_

_'Love you, too.'_

       He smiled at her and touched the outline of her goldgubbe under her shirt, nestled in the valley between her breasts. "If anyone speaks ill of you, or tries to shake your faith in me, just remember the night I gave this to you, and the vows I made."

       She looked up at him and smiled, placing her hand over his Hammer, also hidden under his black shirt. "I remember."

       He brushed back a tendril of her hair that had come loose from her ponytail. "Good. Hold onto that memory, and know that I meant every word I said. Our bonding is strong. It is blessed by the Gods themselves. No one, no matter how petty or jealous they may be of our bond, can change that."

       She nodded. "Yes."

       He gave her one more kiss and stepped away. The distance was already tugging at their bond and he hadn't even left yet. She ached.

       "We will see each other very soon," he assured her.

       "Please be safe. Be on your guard."

       "I will."  _'I filled in the shifter while Dr. Ludwig was working on your brother last night. He knows to be on extra alert. He will protect you.'_

_'Did you tell him we know it's Victor?'_

_'No. If no one knows, no one can suspect us when he goes missing.'_

       He was so conniving she sure was glad he was on her side. He heard her and gave her a toothy grin.

       "Be safe my lover. I will see you in seven short hours," he said, preparing to leave.

       "Eric?" she began, calling him back.

       "Yes, my lover?"

       "It's all gonna be all right, isn't it?"  _'Lie to me if you have to.'_

       He smiled, taking on the familiar look of smug superiority and confidence. "Of course. We are together. When we are one, no one can stand against us."

       He wasn't lying; he truly believed that they could beat whatever they faced as long as they faced it together. His confidence gave her hope, and she stood a little straighter, feeling the weight on her shoulders ease up.

       "Okay."

       "There is nothing to fear, my lover. We  _will_  prevail. The alternative is unthinkable," he stated firmly.

       "You're right. It is," she agreed.

       "I must go."

       "I know. I'll see you soon."

       He grinned. "Seven hours, my lover. I will see you in seven hours."

       "Seven hours."

       He blew her a kiss and stepped out the door.

        _'I'll be waiting,'_  she thought huskily, and she felt a surge of lust through the bond.

        _'Preferably naked,'_  he sent back with a mental leer as she heard the engine of the Corvette come to life.

       He always had to get the last word.

 


	27. Epilogue

  
_Epilogue_

       "What would you have done if I'd told you everything after Hallow's curse was broken, and said that I loved you and that I wanted to be with you?" she asked curiously.

       They were back at their Ruston nest, and it was early Sunday morning. The last time she'd looked at the clock it had read 3:38am, and she knew she needed to get some sleep because she was working the Sunday lunch shift, but somehow she just couldn't resist her Viking.

       They'd been apart all evening, although both of their shifts had gone very well and neither of them had had any problems at their respective workplaces. In fact, for a Saturday night, things had been pretty quiet at Merlotte's, and she hadn't asked Eric how Fangtasia had been. She figured he'd tell her if there was anything particularly entertaining or important. There hadn't been – or at least there hadn't been anything more important than a session of lovemaking that had made them both very happy. Sex reaffirmed their bond, and she was feeling very affirmed indeed.

       Now they were together in bed, the electric blanket warming the sheets, and she was in that languid, contented state that came from very satisfying sex with a beloved partner. Bill had used to make her feel that way, less so towards the end of their relationship, and she welcomed the feeling back with open arms. It was so nice to experience the simple joy of knowing she was wanted, valued, and loved.

       Eric had always made her feel appreciated and beautiful; the same Eric who was propped up on one elbow beside her, looking down into her eyes, his face thoughtful. He was quiet for a long time, but she could tell that he was thinking. She politely stayed out of his head while he gathered his thoughts.

       "I would have been delighted, of course, because I had wanted to have sex with you for quite a long time," he answered truthfully.

       She nodded, not surprised by his reply.

       "But..." he continued. "Unless I regained my memories of when I was with you, I would not have been able to fathom the depth of what I had felt for you. I would not have thought it possible for me to feel so strongly again, and to be honest... I don't believe I could have felt that strongly for you if I hadn't been cursed. Hallow's spell stripped me of my masks and allowed me to reawaken the parts of myself that I had buried. If it were not for her booby-trap, I doubt that I would ever have found the courage to let you as deep into me as I have."

       "Courage?" she repeated.

       He sighed and settled down onto his back, pulling her over so her head was in the crook of his shoulder and her hand was on his chest. He seemed to enjoy that position very much, as if having her cuddled close to him was comforting. She remembered how he had insisted on holding her before he would tell her of his history, and she got the feeling that he was about to admit something that was equally as private. She put her arm around him and sent reassurance through the bond, letting him know that she was there for him and that he could tell her anything.

_'Thank you, my lover. You have no idea what a comfort it is to me to know I can trust someone so completely.'_

_'You're welcome.'_

       He sighed and nuzzled her before speaking softly, "I have told you before that vampires feel everything very keenly. It is what makes the young ones so impulsive and unpredictable. Over time, we learn to control our emotions, to suppress and dampen them so they don't consume us. For a vampire as old as me, to... to lower his guard enough to feel... that is a very brave thing to do."

       She nodded and stroked his chest, telling him that she understood.

       "Were you ever scared of me?" she asked.

       "Scared of you?" he repeated, amused. "Never. Scared of the emotions you stirred in me? Yes. There were times when that frightened me a lot. It still does sometimes."

       "It does?"

       "Yes. To allow oneself to have feelings... that can be exploited as a weakness. It is a dangerous thing. It can expose me to my enemies."

       "So why did you do it then? Allow yourself to feel?"

       "It was that or kill you, and I couldn't bear the thought of your death. The only way I could reconcile my conflicting emotions was to accept my feelings," he admitted, shrugging. "I'd tried denying them, but that didn't work. That only made me more miserable. And I think it made you miserable too."

       He gave her a little nudge and she nodded, thinking back on her emotional state after Rhodes and the Nevada takeover. "Yeah. I was pretty unhappy. Lonely. Alone. Missing having someone in my life who thought I mattered."

       His fingers stroked her hair tenderly. "You always mattered. Even from the very beginning, you mattered to me."

       "Somehow, I think I knew that."

       His lips touched the top of her head. "Yes."

       She tightened her hand on his chest and pulled herself closer, pressing against his cool, hard body.

       "You know that night when Sigebert attacked you and Felipe in Merlotte's parking lot? That was a turning point for me," she said.

       "How so?"

       "I didn't know you were calling me. All I knew was that I was having a panic attack, and I had to go back. And I wasn't doing it because of the bond, or because I thought I owed you, but because I liked you. That night I made a decision, and I think it's affected every choice I've made since."

       She felt him nod, his cheek against her hair. "Yes. You decided to accept what you were feeling and stop fighting."

       She didn't know if she'd put it quite that way, but the concept was the same. "I guess. I guess that's what made me say yes to you when you asked me to go away with you. Part of me knew that I'd already made the choice."

       "I'm glad."

       "What would have done if I refused?"

       "I would have found another way to have our talk. It would have taken longer, and probably would have been delayed or interrupted, but I was determined that we would have it, and, as you know, I am both very patient and very persuasive," he replied with complete honesty.

       She laughed softly. "And I think your abstinence would have forced the issue as well."

       He chuckled. "I must admit, it was a... driving force behind most of my motives."

       She tilted her head up to smile at him, happy to see him smiling back. "Only most of them?" she asked coyly.

       "There was a sizeable part of me that was operating on a higher level," he argued, huffing a bit, but his eyes were laughing and joy was singing across the bond. "I'd already begun laying my plan to bring you to me. As I said, I was putting things into motion before Rhodes, but my plan really began to solidify after the bombing."

       "Rhodes changed everything," she whispered, frowning. It wasn't the first time she'd said it, but it was still just as true.

       His face grew serious, and he nodded. "Yes. I'd let you slip away from me before; I wasn't going to let it happen again. When I woke after being injured, and I heard about all you had done, and I remembered how you had come to save Pam and me, I knew I would stop at nothing to win you again."

       "I did notice that you treated me differently after you had healed. You were... quieter, less arrogant when you spoke to me. You were more honest, too. I appreciated that."

       "I knew that my previous methods of wooing a woman wouldn't work with you. You didn't want my wealth or my power. What you wanted was someone who loved you and treated you as an equal. I knew that even before I regained my memories. After I remembered... well... you know what I did."

       He gave her a sexy smile.

       "Yeah, you all but kidnapped me," she mock-accused.

       "Now, now. You got into my car and onto that plane willingly. Most willingly if I remember correctly."

       "I was thinking of the great sex," she explained seriously. "You were bribing me with all the lover talk and heated looks. My libido hijacked me and made me get on that jet."

       He laughed and stroked her abdomen, running one hand up to fondle a nipple. "Remind me to thank your libido."

       She snorted, but leaned into his touch. "You've already thanked it."

       "I have not even begun to express my appreciation," he replied, pulling her up for a kiss.

       "Eric... I really need to sleep. I have to work the lunch shift..."

       "Shh, my lover. You know you sleep better after I've seen to your needs," he murmured, his lips against her throat.

       She was starting to sweat, her heart speeding up and her body tingling. "Oh, Eric..."

       He was shifting, moving them so he could climb atop her, his cool body sliding along her heated skin. Higher thought was fast flying out the window, but she grabbed onto its tail even as she dug her fingers into the hard muscles of his shoulders.

       "Eric... why did you bring me to Isle Elena?"

       He paused in his attentions and breathed cool air across her earlobe. Her whole body shuddered.

       "I told you. I was tired, and I wanted to go to a place where I knew I could rest."

       She shook her head. "There's more to it than that, I know it. There were other places you could have taken me. Izzy told me about them. Why choose that one?"

       "Because I knew the only way to get you to talk to me was to take you to a place where neither of us could hide, not even from ourselves. I needed not only to remove you from all the distractions and reminders of everything that had happened between us, but I also needed to bring you somewhere where you couldn't run away, not from me, and most importantly, not from yourself."

       Talk about blunt, but he wasn't finished.

       "And I needed to be  ** _me_**  again. You wanted the Eric who had loved you when I was cursed, and I couldn't be that Eric in Shreveport. I couldn't take the risk of letting down my guard, especially so soon after the takeover. I knew the healing magic on Isle Elena would strip away my masks for me so I wouldn't have to do it myself."

       He looked at her, his eyes bright and intense, and he brought up a hand to stroke her face. Her heart caught in her throat.

       "Eric..."

       "You have no idea what it took for me to do that, to let go like that. But I knew that the only way we were both going to survive this bond, was if I dropped my walls and let myself feel for you. The only way this was going to work was if I let you in, was if I... let love in."

       He stopped, and if he was going to say more she didn't know, because she kissed him, cradling his beloved face in her hands and letting him feel just how much she loved and needed and wanted him.

        _'I needed to let love in too,'_  she sent, tangling her fingers in his golden hair.

_'Yes.'_

       His arms came around her, holding her against him as he slid his leg between her thighs and rolled her beneath him. Part of her knew she should stop him and tell him she needed to sleep, but another, bigger, part of her knew that the best way to get to sleep was to let him love her.

       She sighed, giving over, and let him in.

 

_There's nothing we can do about_

_the things we have to do without._

_The only way to feel again_

_is let love in._

Goo Goo Dolls, "Let Love In"

 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is continued in the LLI side stories Kodak Moment, Best Laid Plans, Life and Death in New Orleans and Hope Is the Thing With Feathers.


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